Nina
by PixieXW
Summary: I've read a lot of stories where five Pevensies came home at the end of PC instead of four- the fifth being inside Susan. However none of these are as cruel as the real, gritty historically accurate version. Hope you like it! (Also not Susan and Peter romantically- just showing support for each other)
1. Chapter 1

(A/N) I've read a lot of stories on here which have Susan come home pregnant at the end of PC- they are good but none have been historically accurate and so I took it on myself to make it historically accurate and quite sad. Hope you enjoy it, feedback much, much appreciated!  
For those reading Caspian XI I'm sorry but my heart just hasn't been in it and I don't want to Wreck the next few scenes of it! Thanks for being patient, love you all!

Mum liked to get letters from us when we were away to school, she liked to hear about the awards and test results and the bother that Edmund had got himself into. I was generally the one who wrote and it was more urgent since Lucy had just left the comforts of a local school to come to St Finnbars. I knew that Mum worried about the bravest and most adventurous of us all. Lucy changed a lot after our first trip to Narnia, she became so brave and so much stronger and wiser than any eight year old girl should have been. Mum had found it so strange how much we had all changed, we no longer argued and were so much more supportive of each other.  
She put it down to the war, to our father leaving to fight. She would never know the truth.  
The first letter that was sent to mother at the beginning of Lucy's first term wasn't concerning her at all, but me. My time of the month had never came along. It was late and that was odd, I'd expressed those concerns to my mother and she had sent her reply 'not to worry, sometimes there is confusion Susan dear. And remember to watch Lucy, the curse should start for her soon.'  
She was right, I thought, I was just a little confused but a week turned into six and then two months had passed with still no sign, in fact Lucy's began before my lost one appeared.  
I remembered her coming up to me at the end of breakfast, wringing her cardigan in her hands, and explaining that she had seen blood in her knickers. I quietly explained the situation to the matron of our house and she gave me a pat for being such a good sister and excused me and Lucy from our first lessons of that day. I dragged her back up to the dorm she slept in and say her down for a chat, beginning to back up what Mum had began to tell her when she was given her first bra a few months before hand. Lucy, as Lucy does, asked endless questions, her little cheeks flushed a bright rouge. She asked the key question when I helped her strip her bed, the questions that explained the point of that dull ache all young women are familiar with. She asked me what it meant if they didn't come.  
It meant you were going to have a baby.  
A baby.  
I froze my fingers gripped tightly to the sheet that I was holding onto.  
Lucy had looked up at me, commenting on the colour of my face,  
"Susan you're awfully white, what is it?" I couldn't answer that one, my curious sister would have to wait. I suddenly felt nauseous, whirled and ran from the room.  
I couldn't be expecting, that was something that happened to married people, to adults. I wasn't even sure how it happened. Was it a kiss, or hug or touching bare skin that did it? I had done them all on that night with Caspian. Was it the other actions that felt so unimaginably pleasant even though he insisted he hadn't performed as well as he would have liked to. Was that what made a baby?  
I wasn't sick, not that time. I ran back to my own dorm and gulped in thick gasps of air from the window. I felt tears grow in my eyes and fear rage and taunt inside my stomach. I couldn't have a baby, that was wrong. I knew it was wrong.  
A girl from our parish had disappeared during the summer and her mother would not say where. Mum confided in me that the girl, Angelica, had committed a real sin. The girl had been sent away to give birth to a baby she shouldn't have expected.  
Would I be sent away? Had I done something wrong? Baby; the word taunted and squirmed in my brain, frying all my thoughts. I couldn't be having a baby. I could not. I was just a child, just a girl and I was not able to have a baby. I was too young for this but still I knew, deep back there, that it was true.  
I didn't know who to tell, it wouldn't go away- I wasn't so stupid to believe that. I knew babies sometimes died inside their mother's stomach but the baby still had to come out. It would have to grow up and come out even it if was a dead little blue and red baby like the one our neighbour delivered during an air raid. I didn't know what to do, I wouldn't be sent away from home, I begged it not to be happening. But it was and I was.  
A further letter from my mother asked if my monthly's had returned. I pretended to forget that question. I knew by then, a few weeks before the holidays, that I was expecting no doubt.  
"Susan your getting awfully podgy," Mary Carmichael commented when we got changed one night for bed, her eyes had narrowed in suspicion and she went to poke my stomach before Tabitha Thomson interrupted,  
"Just leave Pevensie alone, she's just having a growth spurt, that's all." I knew from the look in her eyes she knew more. Tabitha was in running for head girl even though she had a large mixture of a family history behind her. Tabby was brought up in the east end till her aunt took her in when she was fourteen- she'd seen everything a girl should never see. If there was anyone who could help me it would likely be Tabitha. Luckily for me I didn't have to sake for her help, she came to me first.  
"Susie P," she called on me the final Sunday before we traveled home. On Sunday afternoons we got time to ourselves, I'd promised Lucy I would take her into town since the junior girls had to have a senior with them. Tabby grabbed my hand as the other girls filed from the dorm with their coats and gas masks.  
She dragged me to the far end of the room and took me by the shoulders, she was only a little taller than me and even though she was smiling softly I felt intimidated.  
"Look, don't deny it Susan, I know you've got one in the oven and I know your folks won't be 'appy. I won't ask who 'e is or what 'append but I know a gal who can get you outta this mess."  
I didn't know what she meant, how could there be a girl who could help me, once you were expecting you had to have a baby, didn't you?  
"Susan, all they have to do is get a hook and pull it out, that's all. It hurts a bit but once it's out then its over and your body will go back to normal."  
"Where, where do they hook it out from?"  
Tabby laughed as if I'd said something stupid,  
"Obviously the same way it got in,"  
I presumed she meant through my... through there and said nothing more.  
"Will it hurt?" I asked, speaking quietly- a strange thought for someone who had been in battles.  
"I don't know how much but to be honest it can't 'urt much more than losing your innocence did, huh?" I nodded, thinking for a moment. My heart was pounding and I felt very wrong. I felt like I was doing something very bad, it was the one memory I'd always have of the handsome young king who sired it, I didn't know if I could do it. I had to do it. I couldn't go home like this, I would be a total disgrace and mum would have to send me away to a home, she would have to for my safety as well as the rest of the family's. I would give my baby away and then I would come home and pretend nothing happened.  
"When?"  
"We can go right now, we'll catch the bus in with the kids as long as we walk fast."

We did walk fast, Tabitha positively dragged me down the bustling streets. I felt I shouldn't have left the younger girls but there was so much worry and anxiety bubbling inside me that I felt my heart could short circuit. I didn't know what was happening and I didn't want it to happen, it was like living in a bad dream, like being an accidental murderer. I was going to be a murderer. I had killed people before, it shouldn't have been a problem to do it again. But they were different, they weren't good people, they were out to hurt, to kill my family and I wasn't about to let that happen. This thing inside my body, it was my family. The baby was my own flesh and blood, it was Narnian royalty of the highest and purest and yet this had to happen.  
The streets got closer and smellier and busier. We rushed down back street after backstreet, each darker and more taunting than the one before. I felt very sick. I gagged once or twice but Tabby took no notice ruthlessly dragging me,  
"It's only wee," she explained, exasperated, "the boys always wee in the streets round our way- well what was our way," Tabby carried on but I wasn't listening. I didn't even want to walk on the ground here it was so filthy, an open gutter ran down the middle of the street filled with paper bags and cigarette ends. There was dog mess all over the place and children played in too big clothes. I though we had it bad with the war at home. I could now understand why Tabby had always been grateful for the likes of carrot fudge.  
Eventually we reached our destination even though it was just any old house, I knew that this mustn't be a legal thing to do but I had thought up a picture of a little doctors practise, clean white walls and a red-lipped receptionist. This building was far from that.  
The first room smelled strong and metallic, it was black as pitch when we walked through the front door. A small candle burned in one corner and a row of statue like women leaned against the wall. Other than the candle which sat in a saucer on a rickety table there was no furniture. The room was small and its windows boarded up. I felt my skin prickle- this was definitely not right.  
Tabby shoved me in ahead of her, holding onto my shoulders with a vice grip like the claws of a lion.  
I could almost hear my heart leaping and bouncing around in my chest, desperate to escape. I tried to stay still and calm, I tried but there was a noise.  
A sharp scream filled the air, piercing the bubble of silence that had surrounded me. An earth shattering scream, and it continued. On and on and on. The cry belonged to a girl, not a woman. I felt my heart break away and I went with it, turning and following it out the door.  
"Susan!" I heard Tabby yell after me but I couldn't. There was so much pain. So much death. Needless slaughter went on in that house. I felt sick but I knew I couldn't stop or Tabby would catch me. Tabby would persuade me to go back. Tabby would make me kill it. I couldn't kill it, I couldn't.  
I ran and ran until I was lost and disorientated in an alley. I stopped to breathe in desperate gasps of air as my legs burned from exertion. I threw up, tasting the vicious acid in my throat, I was sick once more from the putrid taste and smell combined.  
It was hopeless, everything was totally hopeless. I was going to have a baby and I couldn't kill it and I'd ran away and I couldn't have a baby and Mum and Peter and Edmund and Lucy and school and Tabby and-. My head was spinning with all my thoughts, they flew from my head in the form of tears and I just stood there. I stood and wailed like a lost toddler, hoping and praying things would and could get better somehow.  
I found my way back to the bus stop eventually, I knew I'd missed the bus back to school, I knew there were only three a day and the next one was too late. Catching the last bus home meant a punishment when you got back there, punishment enough was missing super for many of the girls but I hadn't been very hungry the past few weeks. I had been taunted by Mrs Metcalfe that I ought to eat every piece of food I was offered, that there were people who weren't so lucky as to have the combined rations of all its pupils and I knew she was right- few families contained enough people to make a pastry where as the school managed it easily. I thought about the stringy pie we had been offered last night and the memory of the smell and chewing that fatty stuff which squeaked between my teeth made me feel sick. I had gone off food. That was a plain and simple fact, no dodging it. On the other hand I didn't really understand it all. I had some vague memories of Mum being very ill when she expected Lucy. I wondered if it was part of being with child. I shook myself mentally for thinking about it because as soon as I did I felt the worries filter back into my head. I hadn't done anything wrong, not really- not deliberately and now Tabby was going to be fed up with me too, she'd twisted many arms to get that sorted. I hadn't had it sorted and sitting at that bus stop in the cold I realised how much there was that I needed to sort.

"Susan? Susan Pevensie ! Are you listening to me?" Mrs Highlander was yelling in my ear the following day in biology class. I wasn't even aware I was half-asleep until she was glaring down at me, her left eye twitching as it did. Lucy had said her eye was a visual of the wireless signal on a windy day and every time I saw her I had to try not to laugh. I hadn't been able to sleep at all the night before, thoughts of babies and horrified parents. When I did sleep my dream was an odd one.  
I could hear a baby crying and I ran through a big house searching, desperate to make the baby quiet. The house became the home of Professor Kirke and I soon came face to face with the wardrobe from last years adventures. I rummaged through all the fur coats and mothballs, searching for the baby. I began to crawl and then the wardrobe door shut. I was locked in and helpless with a crying baby.  
"Well, Susan? What is the name of the bone from the shoulder to the elbow?"  
I opened my mouth, my brain running at top speed to find the answer but I was so tired it just would not come to me at all. The ruler was suddenly whipped from behind her back and crashed down on my knuckles. I was so shocked tears flooded into my eyes. It hurt, I could feel the bones wringing and complaining. I had never been struck by a teacher before.  
"On you feet! Three strokes for not paying attention! Hand!" I had no choice at all but to obey her and stood holding my hand out in front. She pulled my arm straight, painfully twisting my wrist over to expose the blue lined underside.  
Whack, whack, whack. I watched the wooden ruler rise and fall, biting my lip against the pain. I wanted to cry, I knew I couldn't but I really wanted to. I had too much pride to let her see she'd hurt me. I heard a voice reminding me that I was queen of Narnia, that she should be kissing my feet. It helped a little with the pride but not as much as I'd have liked with the pain.  
"Sit, and pay attention girl." Mrs Highlander all but growled at me before she turned and strode back through the rows of girls to the front of the room.  
A girl called Miriam who sat across from me tapped me with her pencil, handing me her handkerchief for the raw skin on my wrist. I offered her a grateful smile but knowing I was being speared with sharp eyes I didn't speak. There were no cuts on my wrist, I'd heard the belt they used on the boys often cut them. All there was, was a slight burn and some humiliation. I had never been struck by a teacher before, Mum would be so upset to hear it. I was so tired that I just couldn't pay much more attention. I really could not.  
"Well that concludes that some of us have been paying sufficient attention to our last lesson. Today we move on to the topic of reproduction." With those words the entire room began to shuffle uncomfortably in their seats. No body wanted to admit that they were a little interested in this. No one wanted to admit this was all new material. An image of something like a pear appeared on the projector screen and she explained this was the womb, each of us had one inside us. She said that I was around the size of a real pair but it expanded if a baby began to grow inside it. I struggled not to let my hand drop and feel this pear shape, see if I could feel a bigger sized lump. She explained that an egg passed through these tubes and into the womb where a married woman could have it fertilised by a man'a sperm. The baby would then grow from the two cells. She disconnected the projector and before I could stop my thinking, my hand shot up.  
"Yes Susan," Mrs Highlander snarled again- pulling a face like a mangy dog.  
"How long does it take before the baby is ready to come out?"  
"Nine months, is your mother expecting another child?" She must have presumed that was why I wanted to know and so I nodded. Nine months. It had already been three, the baby would come in the spring- April. It seemed so far away but it wasn't. It wasn't when the baby wasn't allowed, it wasn't when I would have to hide it and then give it away. I needed to sort it, I needed advice and that had to come from my best advisor. Peter.


	2. Chapter 2

"Yes miss Pevensie? What can I do for you." I stood in the headmistress' office, in front of her vast oak desk, waiting as she peaked up over the frame of her spectacles.  
"I would like to have permission to go over to Hendon House, I have some upsetting news that I must give to my brothers- in person." It was entirely true, Peter certainly wouldn't accept it with open arms.  
The headmistress, a plump old woman with scraggly brown hair which looked like it was about to fall out like the needles of an old pine, scrutinised me for a moment. Nodding slowly she spoke in her unhurried, royal-like tone. I remembered lessons on that etiquette myself. "Alright Susan, you're a very studious girl I am assured so I will allow you out during study this evening, I hope the news is not too upsetting." She said the last part with sympathy and as I left I realised why. She had thought it was my Father, that's why she let me out, so many girls had lost fathers, brothers, cousins. I felt a little guilty for letting her think that.  
However, I was free and I could breathe knowing it was going to be ok. Peter would know what to do, he had to. I thought,as I headed towards the lunch hall, about all the times I'd helped my brother; the times I'd grabbed him by the shoulders and made him calm down; the times he'd ended up in my room, pacing in the middle of the night; the times he'd disappeared in a rage to go and hack some brambles. Peter had always been there for me since we were little, we even snuggled up in the same pram. He would help me now just as he had when we were both younger and older. I caught Lucy's eye when I walked into the room, she looked worried but stayed at her own table as I took my place next to Tabby and a quiet girl called Kathleen. I could feel Tabby's eyes on my back, she hadn't spoken a single word to me since I'd escaped. A lumpy chicken soup was served for lunch, most likely made from the neck and my stomach churned. I must have turned an odd colour because Tabby gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder and got up, asked if she could go to the toilet. I worked out her meaning and paused for a few minutes before following her out of the hall. Again I caught Lucy's gaze but shook my head when she started to follow.  
Tabby stood just outside the door pretending to admire a painting by someone named Fraser Templeton. I walked towards her, struggling to keep the feelings of nausea away. The thought of the chewy, crunchy chicken kept filling my mind and making my stomach heave again.  
Tabby turned in time to see my hand rush to my mouth once more. She smirked,  
"Soup not going down well?"  
"Not at all," she smiled gently, putting her hands on my shoulder,  
"It 'appens, part of the things you get when you 'ave a baby,"  
I nodded,  
"I think I remember my mum feeling sick when she had Lucy, but I was only four so its not a strong memory."  
Tabby was silent for a moment, her eyes dropped to consult the ground before she spoke again,  
"Ok, Su I. I couldn't have done it either. I shouldn't have made you take that decision but I wanted you to 'ave the choice I didn't get."  
I felt very cold as her words began to sink it, she didn't get the choice. Tabby was a mother. She must have seen the recognition in my face, she nodded.  
" I 'ad my baby and then my aunt took me in, she gave me a 'proper child'ood' but my little boy. 'E's being brought up as my little brother. I've never seen 'im, Mum's scared I'd try to steal 'im back."  
I didn't know what to say. Nobody would have suspected it of Tabby, she was so happy a person, so daring and loveable. She had given her baby away.  
"It's ok, I'm 'appier without 'im really. I got to come 'ere and 'ave a real education and all. It's strange thought, the curse reminds me each month of my boy- 'e'll be two soon. 'Is name's Eric, my Mam called 'im that. I do miss 'im but its ok, I'm ok."  
It started to come through in my brain that she was trying to tell me I would survive if my baby was taken away from me. I couldn't imagine not having my child, even though I didn't know it. I'd began to feel a lump in my stomach, a place that was harder than it used to be and I knew it was because of the baby. I knew my baby already, even though we'd never met. I remembered speaking to mrs Beaver when her first litter were on their way and she'd said they all had a personality of their own. She knew each of her babies' personalities and could tell their kicks apart long before they were born.  
"What will you do Susan?" I'd forgotten about Tabby, lost in my own thoughts for a moment,  
"I don't know, I need to speak to my brother- he'll know where to start. I got permission from headmistress to go this evening during study. I said it was some personal news- it wasn't exactly a lie. I think she thought my Father." Tabby nodded, turning to go back into the lunch hall,  
"Susan, if you need anything you know where I am. Good luck." And she was gone, leaving me in the long corridor with the work of Fraser Templeton.  
I left the school as I was promised I could, it was beginning to get cold and dark since October was well on its way. The boys school was just across a field from ours but in the dark it felt much more than that. I hadn't bothered with a coat, having just shoved my feet in my wellies and hurrying out before I could change my mind. My legs felt like jelly and my stomach groaned and hiccuped some more. I felt ill, I didn't want to confront Peter but I knew I had to. I had to stop being silly and get on with it.  
'For goodness sake Susan, it's not like your about to face an angry Minotaur," I tutted to myself as I trudged through the fields. My eyes caught the reddening sky with its peach toned clouds. I thought about the dull stars that would be out when I walked home, they weren't the same stars. These were not the stars that lived in the sky and played as they had done in Narnia. Caspian didn't watch these same ones. For all I knew years could have passed since we left, he could be married and have children of his own.  
He already had a child of his own, a little kid deep inside me. The baby he'd never meet. Would Aslan let him know? Would he ever discover that we had made something and I was cradling it in my pelvis? Maybe it was kinder if he never knew. I wished the same could happen for me, never had our two lives, two identities been in such close contact before and I feared it could rip the family apart.

The huge door of the boys' school loomed up ahead of me, ready to swallow up the stranger at its door. I felt sick, and this time it wasn't because of the baby. I knocked and heard the sound echo through the entire building. Seconds passed before the door was opened by a tall man dressed entirely in brown- even a brown moustache. He peered down at me from his huge height, his grey eyes pinning me on the spot. He made me feel around a foot tall.  
My tongue struggled to work and I thrust the note I'd been given into his hand. He watched me for another few moments before moving his eyes to the page. Silence followed, goosebumps grew on my arms and I shivered where I stood.  
"Richards!" The man yelled, I jumped straight out of my skin. A boy around Peter's age arrived in the doorway. He was a snobbish type, I could tell straight away by the way he held his head and the smirk pasted on his face.  
"Richards, take miss Pevensie to her brother, the elder one."  
The stuck up boy nodded sharply and walked down the wood panelled hall, expecting me to follow him. I trudged along behind- soon lost in the maze of a very different school building to the one I lived in.  
The boy lead me up a few stairs then down a few, in one end of a pointless room-which was more of a hallway extension with doors at both ends. He marched along, hands by his sides like a clockwork soldier and didn't say a word to me until we had passed through yet another hallway extension to a large room filled with voices. Here Richards knocked on the door and abandoned me, leaving me to feel small and odd in this room full of the wrong gender.  
The door hasn't been shut when Richards knocked and so blue, brown, grey and green eyes had all turned and begun to bore into my face. There must have been at least twenty of them watching me. I remembered my father's warning before he went to war; "I hope it's not so but by the time I return you may be a young woman and you must remember that beneath keen eyes lies a keen blood," I never used to know what that meant. Standing I'm front of them I did, I felt like the only gazelle in a room full of lions.  
"Susan? Su, what are you doing here?" A pair of soft blue eyes appeared and I instantly relaxed, my big brother always made everything ok, though maybe this time that wouldn't be the case.  
" I need to speak to you in private," I whispered as Peter came to stand right beside me. My heartbeat became a fluttering butterfly and I was sure it would fly off and leave me all on my own to deal with this.  
Peter could tell I was upset, he was always good at that, from the smallest of things. He was the one who teased it out of me that Janice was bullying me my first year at school, I'd always trusted my brother since then, even more so after ruling a kingdom where we had to work together.  
Peter nodded and ushered me from the room, placing his warm hand on my spine- just like he had when we were tots. That thought had my heart taking off once more and wishing to soar away. Would he be disappointed? Would he be disgusted by me? I didn't know, it was the rational way to think but I hoped, prayed, that he remained his usual, irrational self.  
I didn't even watch where he took me because I was so locked up in my worries and thoughts and prayers. The next thing I knew he led me into a big dormitory with ten beds, five facing five and a gap in the middle. All ten were dressed in the same blue and gold that were the school colours, my red uniform stuck out like a sore thumb. A tired, tatty teddy bear sat slumped against the pillow of one bed and a football scarf dressed the iron headdress of another. Peter sat down on a bed and tugged my wrist, pulling me out of my worries for long enough to remember I had to sit down to. Tears which hadn't been there before spilled from my eyes and I began to wail,  
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry I shouldn't have been so naïve. Please don't let me be sent away." My chances of coherent thought disappeared and I knew I was getting nowhere fast, I was only adding confusion to it all.  
"Su," Peter interrupted my blathering and gripped me by the shoulders, making me look at him and see the kindness in his eyes. I knew he hadn't a clue how big a problem I had to drop straight down onto his head and shoulders. I could barely breathe through the tears but they had to stop and I had to speak. I had never been so delirious with tears. Taking one deep suck of air in through my mouth I let it go with the words I needed to say,  
"I'm having a baby."  
Silence.  
"Yes, in a few years time I guess you are-"  
"No, Peter. Not in a few years time, if only. Pete, I'm having a baby now. I'm already three months in. I couldn't get rid of it, I tried I really tried but I just couldn't do it!"  
Peter's eyes became wider and his eyebrows swam closer and closer together. He believed the words he was hearing but he wished he didn't. I felt sick with nerves, the sight of the chicken neck soup flashing at the thought.  
My brother got to his feet, shaking his head. He took a few strides away from me and turned to come back. His blue eyes clicked back to mine and he let out a long breath, deflating as the air escaped from him.  
"Oh god, I think, do- do I know, him?" I nodded, my mouth drying out slowly.  
"I don't want to know- please. You did, ugh." I listened as my brother blabbered on for a while, knowing I didn't have very long and I had to get the facts out I had to sort this out before we got home.  
"What do we do?" I whispered, afraid I was going to start crying again.  
"We tell no one." Peter began again, his voice firm and commanding. "We keep it between us for as long as we can- nobody finds out,"  
"Not even mum,"  
"Especially not mum, she loves you but I wouldn't want her to find out." His voice was dripping in ice cubes, he was trying to be supportive but I knew he wanted to scream or cry just as much as I had.  
"No one knows, then your safe."

I hated the smell of train carriages, all musky and dusty. The smoke clinging to each piece of wood and rubber that made up the carriages. We were on our way home, back to Mum for the holidays. Lucy was chattering away, blind to the fact few people were really listening. Peter nodded occasionally as he scribbled down the start of the homework he had due at the start of the next term. Edmund had his cheek stuck against the window, making very little effort to even pretend he was listening to her. I was trying, I really was trying but my mind was wandering so much. I was scared mum would know. I didn't know how she could know since I wasn't planning to tell her and my belly was yet to change in size much, you could only see the difference when I changed. Still I had daydreams-or day-nightmares - of mum's face. I could see disgust and horror and disownment in her brown eyes, see anger in her gait. She would hate me for this and I hated that I couldn't tell her the truth. If I were to tell her even a bit of it she would have me locked up in an asylum as a mad woman. I had to keep the biggest secret ever- a secret that would keep growing and growing. I felt a strong urge to tell someone, I wanted to voice my fears to Lucy as I did sometimes or to Peter as I always had. I couldn't tell Lucy incase she accidentally told the rest of the world and Peter was a boy, he didn't understand- or want to know about- my feelings. I hadn't even thought about Edmund because I knew- not because he was uncaring but because of the age he was- that he was of the mind that all girls were diseased and the idea of having a one to one conversation with me would be like sending him into a tankful of rattlesnakes.  
I couldn't even tell me mum, only a spare school notebook could hear my thoughts. I'd started writing my thoughts in the book the day I told Peter my problem. I hoped that writing down everything I wanted to ask or anything I felt would help me not to worry. Tabby also gave me her home address since none of her real family could read, she said I could write down anything- even if it was very personal and concerning body parts. That was a relief at least. A very small one.  
"Susan, have you listened to a single word I've just said?"  
"No, I haven't. I've got bigger things to think about than you and Nora Winfrey falling out again." I snapped harder than I should have, I realised that when every eye in the family turned on me. Lucy looked hurt, Edmund confused and Peter's expression of pity hit the hardest. I wanted to stamp on my own foot for being so cruel, I wanted to apologies to my sister but I didn't. I said nothing. Peter said nothing, even when Edmund complained that if it had been him we would have made him apologies straight away. I could already see the horrible effect I was having on my family.

(A/N) thanks guys- your support is always appreciated, please comment!


	3. Chapter 3

"Susan hurry up! What are you doing?  
"Oh hell!" I hissed, my sister's voice giving me such a fright I dropped the safety pin I'd been holding. Mother always said you only got a fright when you were doing a bad thing, over the years I'd learned it was mostly true. Since the idea had popped into my head I'd been dying to try it, praying it would work. That need didn't make it feel any less a betrayal though, I'd had the butterflies looping since mum had left with the ration books and the boys went off to meet some friends. I thought Lucy had gone with mum. The battering on the wooden door proved otherwise.  
I'd lost my chance, and the only safety pin I'd been able to find.  
Frustrated, I removed the long bandage from around my stomach and shoved it up my jumper, hoping Lucy wouldn't see I was hiding something. I headed to unlock the door, spotting the pin at the last minute.  
"Su, saaan," Lucy complained again. I snatched up the pin without thinking and dug it straight into my palm, biting back a cry. Tears climbed from my eyelids, threatening to jump.  
I unlocked the door and watched Lucy dancing around as if she had been waiting for days.  
She shoved quickly past me and gave me a nudge out of the way of the door before locking it firmly.  
I had read in a book that women used to use linen to bind their breasts and pretend to be men so that they could go off and have adventures. My plans seemed a little smaller in the scale of things but I was sure some bandages would cover up my belly just as they had covered their chest's. It had looked so much better, I had barely been able to see the hardening lump at all, then I dropped the pin. Back in the safety of our bedroom I tried again, binding the bandage round and round the lump from top to bottom, opening the pin with my nose and clipping it in place above my belly-button.  
"Susan what are you doing?" I froze. Oh no. Dread sloshed through my blood stream at the sound of my sisters voice once more.  
"Did you hurt yourself?" Lucy's voice changed fluidly from shock to concern and she padded over to me, her eyes flickering across my stomach for any signs of blood.  
"Yes, I- I have a sore back and bandages are supposed to help." After ten years of sharing a bedroom I knew the indignant look on her face said clearly that she did not believe me. Her blue eyes glared at me, expecting me to break like a criminal under a police spotlight.  
I wanted to tell her, of course I wanted her to know but it was too risky. My first plan had failed, I was going to run away rather than go back to school after the holidays. I'd get on the wrong train, or deliberately miss the one to school and go off to stay at a woman's centre in the middle of London. However the school holidays didn't end. The school was being used to house and train new soldiers, mainly boys in their first year. Till further notice we were all staying at home.  
I was getting bigger. Every time I acknowledged that thought I felt like I could burst with tears. I didn't know what to do about the baby, the little life I should have been cherishing rather than trying to forget. I hadn't had a minute to speak to Peter when there was no one else around and I hadn't felt well for a while. I needed my mum and my sister and other brother to help me, but the younger ones couldn't know and my mother would hate me. She wouldn't say it was ok like I had dreamed she might do, she would send me away and my baby would be sent away too, to a strange childless family.  
"Susan, is there something wrong? You haven't been yourself for a long time now- since before the holidays?"  
So she had noticed, had Edmund? Had mum?  
"No, Lu. I'm fine honest I just- I just have a sore back that's all." Lucy turned back and I thought she'd gone, thought I'd got away with it but to my dismay she shut the door instead. Her face looked serious now but there was a look in her eyes, a glisten that meant she had a secret.  
My little sister came and sat down on my bed, swinging her feet. She but her lip, eyes focused on the floor before she began to talk.  
"Susan I had a dream. Aslan spoke to me he said I had to look after the precious gift we had been given and it's bearer. Then I saw Caspian, and old Cair Paravel, the way it used to be in our time. Susan I think the dream is important and I think it's to do with you."  
At this point Lucy became even more red-cheeked and I was almost sure her eyes were nailed to our carpet.  
"I was thinking, did you do IT? You know make love, with Caspian." Her cheeks became scarlet and mine joined in, sometimes it was very easy to forget how old Lucy once was. Those were not the words you expected to come out of a young girls mouth- not when she understood. Then again, mother wouldn't expect me to know its meaning let alone take part.  
"Yes." The word released itself from my lips and my tongue began to fly away, I was desperate to tell her everything. I wanted Lucy to understand what was going on, I wanted another girl to speak to.  
"So, could you be-"  
"Lucy," I interrupted, drawing her attention back to my face, "We've got a bit of a problem and you know you can't tell anyone about this but. I found a present for you, for us. He was running around outside this morning and he scratched me really badly, I got a real fright."  
My confidence slid away in the last instance, either that or common sense stepped in and told me I was being very stupid. Whichever way it was I spun a story about our long lost cat returning, knowing Lucy would be so glad to hear Rhubarb was safe that she'd forget all about me.  
"Haven't you got maths to finish?"  
Lucy rolled her eyes, sighed and clambered off my bed.  
"You are sure about the cat scratching you? My dream seemed so real."  
"It was a dream Lu, just a dream."  
I reached for my own books and curled up on my quilt. The bandages were tight, they would have to be. They restricted my breathing and squashed my organs but they stopped the lump from showing and that's what mattered.

I couldn't sleep that night, not a wink. I lay awake, on my back and thought. I thought about how Lucy had almost known, thought how an experienced mother like ours would spot a baby bump a mile away. I felt queasy too. My appetite had been deteriorating for weeks and weeks. I just did not feel like eating, and I felt queasy in the background all the time. I had never been sick though, that was a plus given mum was very ill when she had her daughters. It had been eighteen weeks now. My hands closed over my stomach. I could feel the hardened outline of my womb nestled between my hips through the quilt. What was going to happen to our baby? I remembered the way he treated me, so gentle and sweet. The king had a baby, a child he would never know had happened. "I'm sorry," my voice echoed above the sound of Lucy breathing.  
"I'm so sorry. Please help me, if you can hear me Aslan, please help me."  
The door of our bedroom moved, creaking open. I glared at the new darkness, my spine prickling in fear.  
I waited, froze by an unknown fear.  
"Su? Is Lucy asleep? We need to talk." It was Peter, thank The Lord. I'd half-expected a monster or poltergeist to come through the door but my brother's sleepy form wasn't quite as scary.  
"Are you awake?" He added as an after thought.  
I rolled over to face him and croaked,  
"Well I am now, I couldn't get to sleep. I can't help but worry."  
Peter walked closer, I saw his outstretched hand through the gloom.  
"Let's go to the kitchen so we can actually see each other." I allowed him to help me up to my feet and hand me my dressing gown.  
The kitchen floor was freezing, a rude wake up call that reminded me of the Cair. Peter switched on the light and it buzzed through the kitchen, scaring all the darkness- and conversation- away. The sound of the light was all there was for a while.  
"Pete, what am I going to do?" My big brother, so full of ideas and strategies, was speechless. He just shook his head and perched on the edge of the old Belfast sink. I followed his lead and sat on the table.  
"So, Caspian is its Father?" I blushed acting like the child's body I lived in.  
"Yes."  
Peter shrugged, "I wanted to get the worst part out of the way first." The dripping tap filled the silence.  
"I think Lucy knows- I tried to throw her off but she's not that stupid."  
Peter nodded,  
"I didn't think it would take her long, she's clever and you haven't exactly been right, how are you feeling?"  
It was the first time of been asked, and I was so glad to hear those words, so glad that someone had taken into account what I thought and felt and needed. I couldn't even tell my own mother how I felt incase she drew the symptoms together and worked it out. Tears sprinkled down my cheeks when I spoke,  
"I am so, so tiered. It just doesn't stop! And I can't sleep because I'm so worried. I don't want Mum to find out and now I can feel the thing growing-"  
Peter interrupted me, stepping across the floor and putting his hands on my shoulders.  
"No, Susan. I don't want you to think about that. That's a baby, and it doesn't matter where it's born its still royalty! Don't lose who you are just because your scared. Your better than that, I know you want to love that kid."  
He was right, I knew it was just a baby, a defenceless baby who knew nothing about the world it would come into. And it would come into the world, I couldn't stop it from being born.  
" I want you to look after my niece or nephew in there," Peter laughed, but became serious as soon as he had laughed,  
"I'll do what I can, I want to help you. It's my job since he's not here." My big brother wiped the tears from my cheeks and wrapped me up in his arms, feeling my stomach touch his.  
"Don't wear those bandages Su, you don't need them yet- honestly I can't feel a thing."  
Crash! We jumped at the noise of the temporary door falling over in the back porch. My heart raced in my chest and an odd feeling rolled around in my stomach. My hand dropped to the odd movements inside it. Peter grabbed a ladle from the sideboard and headed towards the noise, I was too stunned by what is felt to follow him and within a blink he was gone from sight.  
Peter's disappearance was followed by a laugh and he came back into my view clambering over the corrugated iron door with his arms full. As he picked his way back into the light I saw why he'd laughed.  
"Well it was only a white lie you told Lucy."  
He was holding a dark torteshell cat, Rhubarb. Rhubarb had scarpered the first night of bombing and never came back. He had been such a lovely cat.  
"Rhubarb!" I began to grin as Peter laid the purring cat on the kitchen table. I offered my hand to the cat, tickling him under his chin as he used to love. Rhubarb froze, his purring stopped and he began smelling the air. His nose landed on my belly, travelling like a Hoover across my nightie. Then he began to rub his cheek on me instead. I remembered cats scented their owners in this way, they showed their love and possession through it.  
Peter laughed again,  
"Rhubarb knows, he's telling you to look after that 'thing'."  
I laughed timidly as the cat continued to nuzzle into my stomach.  
"We better pick the door back up,"  
Peter nodded,  
"Yeh, give me a hand." We somehow managed to shove the make-shift door back over the gap. A blast had gone through the house and knocked the back door off when we were at school, the iron had sat there since.  
"You better get back to bed." Peter instructed, going into army general mode with a hint of the caring brother I knew.  
"I better take the cat up, Lu will be so excited."  
"Yeh, goodnight Su."  
"Night."  
"And Susan? Just remember what I said, just because we live somewhere else doesn't mean we're different."

"Susan, are you listening?" Mum snapped, making my eyes slide open. I noticed, as if waking up from a dream, that the potatoes were fizzling angrily in the pot and spitting water all over the cooker.  
"Turn them down, there's some spam in the cupboard and Peter should be back soon. Remember to send Lucy out with the books tomorrow and Mrs Charlotte might turn up on the Sunday to check you're alright."  
Mum had received a telephone call from Aunt Alberta, explaining that she, our Uncle and our cousin Eustace were ill. Mum had been given an SOS and I had been given her position for the remains of week.  
"Are you sure you'll manage?" She had deflated and perched on the edge of the table as I had done the night before.  
"You haven't seemed yourself since the holidays. I know you Susan Pevensie, you are a worrier and that's not going to change any time soon. If there is anything, anything wrong then you can speak about it."  
They'd all noticed; even the cat. They all knew something was different about me, at least Mum was very far down the wrong road and it would take her a while to catch up with the others. I hadn't heard much from my younger brother, other than him asking if he could have my breakfast since I didn't want it. I didn't think it would be long, they were all getting closer and closer to the truth but so far they were still far away.  
"I'm just tired," I explained- it was true to an extent. Mum smiled proudly, the same smile she wore when we went to the professor's. The smile that showed I was equal to her, that I was almost an adult in her eyes.  
"We'll be fine Mum."  
"That's my girl Su," she hugged me quickly and turned for the door. I heard the front door click. The potatoes continued to spit in their pot.

(A/N) sorry its a bit short, please comment guys!


	4. Chapter 4

The illness spread like a plague, vulnerable persons in society were likely to catch everything going. I had to remember those people now included me. However a simple flu decided it wouldn't be enough for me and a few days after our Mum left the three o'clock siren had me in a terrible state.  
By the time all clear went at six in the morning I felt worse. A lot worse. I awoke shivering so much my muscles were aching and my head pounded like a drum. I felt the same ailments as a dryad who's tree was being brought to the ground. I didn't even want to crawl from stuffed, solid bunk on the ground of the Anderson shelter. It felt a world away when we'd built it two summers ago, a world without worries or unexpected princesses. I wanted to stay cocooned in my old blanket, huddled atop a picnic rug of years gone by. The noises of my siblings were twice, if not three times those they normally were in my ears. I wanted to fall back to sleep, snuggle into Lucy's hair and forget about life.  
"Su-san?" My ears tuned to Edmund's voice and I looked up into the bright light of the open iron door.  
"Su? Your covered in a rash. Do you feel any better?" My younger brother asked, crouching back to the floor to look at me.  
My muscles screamed as I tried to shake my head. Sweat glued my hair to my neck in a clammy mess which made it feel like straw. My eyes sizzled in their sockets under the bright, burning sunlight. I felt sick, a horrible rolling feeling in my stomach, a sloshing back and forward. I felt so horrid I wanted to cry but couldn't find the energy even for that.  
"Susan?" This time it was Peter's voice. He sounded gruff in his concern just like Dad used to.  
"Su? What's wrong?" I couldn't tell him, feeling only cold and pain and the feelings of sickness that no one can ever describe. I just groaned and shook my head, feeling trapped inside myself. I didn't know what I was supposed to do, what I felt and didn't feel. It was like the flu but so much worse than it had been. I wondered about other illnesses, I heard measles was on the rise but didn't know for sure. The rash sounded like the measles.  
"Peter, is it measles?" I asked, my throat struggling to co-operate with my brain.  
My elder brothers eyes grew into pools of swimming fear, he swore under his breath. Turning sharply to Lucy he began to become the quick acting general once more. I wanted to stop him but I felt so terrible that I was as feeble as my unborn child.  
"Lucy, go to the bottom of the road, telephone for an ambulance if the phone is still working. If not go to Trenton road and try there. Run, quickly." Lucy nodded and was off, darting down the road as fast as she could on the short legs she had.  
Edmund and Peter seemed to have a silent conversation, communicating through their eyes and they switched places. Peter dragged me closer to him, roughly pulling me into his grasp. Both my brothers helped me, lifting me to my feet and supporting me there. Edmund held me still while Peter led me up the three stairs from the Anderson. I froze as my little brother wrapped his arms round my waist. He could feel the harder part of my body but he remained stone faced, not showing the discovery. Maybe he already knew? Maybe Peter had told him, but I doubted he would. Walking hurt. My legs ached and slopped into the ground like half-set jelly. It felt like an eternity before I hit the sofa in the front room. It felt even longer before Lucy returned, panting and red-cheeked from Trenton road saying an ambulance was coming.  
The time ticked on by, each second taking forever. Tears didn't come, help didn't come. Peter and Edmund perched at either end of the brown sofa, Lucy sat on the floor in front of me. Peter went to fetch me a blanket. Edmund fetched a tumbler of water. Lucy turned the wireless on, then off again.  
"Lu will you go and get Susan some overnight things. Ed go with her, help her." I saw Edmund's glare of confusion through my soldering eyes but watched him walk through the door anyway.  
"Susan, the baby. If you have German measles then it's at risk and it certainly looks that way to me. We have to tell the doctors!" Peter hissed when the feet of the others fell silent.  
I shook my head, feeling my brain knock back and forwards in my skull.  
"No Peter! Then they will have to tell Mum and then she'll send me away like the girl from Church!"  
"Susan!" Peter's voice began to raise in fury,  
"I have to tell the doctors, I phoned an ambulance because the child inside you is going to die if we don't take you to a hospital. If you don't get help then you could die too! I didn't take you through frozen lakes and huge battles for you to die in a hospital! Please Su, don't be stupid."  
I'd frozen, solid as ice because I could see what he couldn't. My younger brother and sister stood in the doorway, their eyes wide in shock. I began to cry, tears of pain and shock and horror and rage all came streaming down on me like the waterfall of ice had done two years ago. I felt Peter's eyes turn from me, looking behind he masked my despair.  
Lucy looked excited, Edmund shocked. I could only feel dread, things were coming out that I'd never meant to come out at all. They knew the secret.  
"So that's Nina, the future Princess of Narnia." Lucy broke the silence. She didn't smile, which was a bad sign-Lucy always smiled.  
Edmund just stared, so unsure of what to do. This wasn't part of my plan- whatever the plan was. This was far from the ideal. My blood began to fizzle cold in my veins and I just stared. This wasn't supposed to happen!  
"Is this true? Is Susan, going to have a baby?" Edmund spoke, he didn't even look at me, they were ashamed. Ashamed of what I'd done, I hadn't meant it, I didn't want to hurt people. I didn't think that this could have happened and now I didn't want to think, I wanted to sleep. Just wanted to sleep.

The room was white and painful. That was it white and pain, serious pain, burning pain, pain that screamed at me in it's own agony. I rolled over, feeling a stinging ruminating itch all over my skin. I tried I tumble to the left, tried to curl up in a ball but rough strong hands shoved me back. I cried, pain across my stomach.  
"Oi, be careful with my sister you!" I made out Edmund's voice but I couldn't see him.  
"Do you want me to help her or not? Your lucky boy that I agreed to treat her at such ungodly hours!" A strong snooty voice spat from behind my head but the itching and the pain were so constant, so unbearable that I couldn't even bear to open my eyes.  
Another voice.  
"Susan, I need to put a needle in your arm to give you some water."  
Stabbing, searing pain. The pain of knocking your elbow on the kettle just after it's boiled shot straight into my hand as a needle sliced into my skin followed by a cold sensation. Shoes trod away again down an echoing hallway.  
"What are you doing to her? What's wrong?" Lucy's voice. I could hear tears in her determined voice, she was trying to be brave just like the day we were sent away.  
"Your sister is presenting signs of Rubella, a dangerous and infectious condition. She needs to be treated with fluids intravenously and antibiotics. She could be very sick. Now you ought to hush and allow me to come to a diagnosis. I suggest you contact your Mother." The vile doctor snarled. His disgusting manor gave me enough strength to draw open my eyelids and glare at the tall, bald man in a white coat.  
I was fighting against pain and could only manage to stay alert for a moment but it was long enough to catch Lucy's gaze, long enough to see I was being forgiven.  
From then I didn't wake for days I'm told. I slept and slept, stuck inside my own mine while my family worried outside of it. I later learned that I had a severe illness, a virus which was harming my brain. The virus forced me into deep unconscious. I was thrown into darkness and left there. I remembered what had happened before hand but I hadn't a clue what was happening in the present.  
The facts were swirling in my head like the last few lentils refusing to dissolve into the soup:  
1) Lucy and Edmund knew I was expecting  
2) Lucy had forgiven me for the mistake I made, though Edmund had barely said a thing  
3) I was seriously ill  
4) Mum would soon have to know about the baby.  
All my thoughts, worries and fears revolved around the stupid baby! The little thing that had came and stollen my life from under me. The little child I was supposed to love and cherish, the one I'd stay awake all night for if I had to. The baby I felt none of that for. Another worry that swirled end glugged in my head, a fear which was so confusing I felt lost with it.  
5) what if I don't want my baby?  
I had never asked for it and now it had upset everything. I couldn't have let it die, not in a million years or more but then I struggled to let a spider die. The baby was the reason I was asleep, the reason I couldn't see the four members of my family that were able to visit. It was why I couldn't comfort Lucy and Mum, why I couldn't comfort Ed and Peter.  
The frustration faded after what felt forever to me and I was soon lost even further in, like Alice in the rabbit hole. I began to have dreams instead, odd dreams about bright coloured monkeys and houses that turned to water if you dared to touch them.  
In one dream I walked across the sandy bay at the feet of the golden Cair Paravel. I felt warmth beneath my toes in each tiny clear crystal. I heard the waves crash playfully on rocks, watched birds fly and chase high above me. There were three of them a young albatross, a red Phoenix and a small Linnet and they played together as they only could in this world. I walked through the cavern of a cave, feeling rough damp stone instead of sand between my toes. The mouth of the cave was bright but cool and the conditions stayed that way right through the stone tunnel. It opened after a good mile or so of walking into a huge, vast room with a rope ladder hanging in the middle of it. The tatty ladder climbed up high above my head, filtering yet more light into the cave which instead of dark was a cool peach colour. I remembered it, a shock-start memory of Edmund building this shortcut. The rope reached castle level through an old well- disused even in our time- which was just outside the gates of the Cair.  
I lifted one bare foot onto the rough steps of the ladder, feeling my weight it held and I took another step, and another one. I climbed right to the top of the cavern, the rope cutting into my feet. As I climbed upwards my thoughts began to surface in my mind and I remembered all that had happened. I had been very ill, in hospital and Peter had told the doctor about my baby. The younger ones, Lucy and Edmund, knew about the baby too. My mum would soon find out. The doctors suspected I had Rubella but their faces hadn't been as sure as their words. I'd been itchy and sore, now that was gone. I reached the top of the rope, saw the grass around the crumbling top of the old well. I saw the sight of our old home far into the right. I saw the edge of the island to the left and beyond the world we had left behind. A smile grew over my face, kissing my cheeks and eyes, the hairs prickled down my back. I felt an overwhelming sense of freedom, of home. I felt my heart beat quicken in pure love of this old castle.  
The trees that had once lay thick around the well had all moved back to greet me. They bowed slowly with leaves rustling slightly in the breeze that filtered through the bright sunlight. At first I presume it was me they bowed to but then I saw him. Aslan stood on the crest of the hill. His eyes fixed with the souls of a thousand people onto me. His mane seemed to literally glisten in the soft light. He stood tall and regal yet gentle and kind.  
"Come, dear child." His voice was deep and strong- the way my Father's had seemed when I was very young. I knew he could feel my mixed confusion and total glee. I knew he understood all that had happened to me. He would explain away the confusion and flatten out the excitement of being home. I had so many questions but none dared to pass through my lips.  
I pulled myself up onto my feet and walked to him as he had asked.  
"Aslan, what's happening?"  
"Be calm, my child all will be made clear soon. You are about to face a very difficult time. There is great sadness and frustration to come to you soon but you must be brave and remember who you are my gentle one. You have been given a great and important job to complete, which is not an easy task in your world but you shall return there. We shall meet again but the time isn't now."

(A/N) I want to apologies for the ridiculously short length of this chapter but I've had a few problems. Mainly I've been in hospital for two and a bit weeks and have had a major operation! So I've been a tad too sick to do any writing. Also an earlier draft of this chapter deleted itself and I got really frustrated so missed out some and three I'm struggling ideas wise a bit at the moment. I've been thinking about what makes me love these books and it comes down to the magic, the history and the family. I feel there needs to be more Narnia involved in this story and I don't know how I'm going to do that at the moment. I thank you all for reading and being patient. Please review it would really cheer me up!

Thanks


	5. Sneaky little note

My apologies that this isn't actually a chapter although I do have very strong intensions to have another chapter done soon! I am still just a little stuck on what I'm going to do and which idea to take ( I came up with a mad, awesome idea but would be unable to reconnect it to the rest of the story... Anyway I'll quit ranting and say what I was going to say. I've ghost a bit of fun for you all!

so this is a really detailed character card I found and I was really curious to have different people fill it in for different Narnia characters just to see how much they agree and disagree. Like I say just a bit of fun, you can do more than one if you want! And either review or pm your answers. Hope you enjoy it, and I'll get on writing!

Thanks

(the link!) art/Character-Profile-Form-36823983

oh, ps what has forty legs, twenty arms and eats a lot... Ten centaurs :)


	6. Chapter 6

"Aslan!" I screamed, calling out but he was gone and Narnia was gone. I was alone in a dark room. I lay in a bed with tight blue blankets and starched white sheets. On either side of me older women slept soundly. I was back in hospital, back on a ward with strangers and no Aslan to help me. No one to help me. My mother would know by now, know that I'd disgraced the family by getting in this condition. She would be disgusted then Edmund and Lucy, what did they think about me?

It hurt most that they were judging me on something they didn't understand! They had never seen what really happened. My younger siblings thought our last kiss had been our first, they hadn't a clue where time was going to take us before we were sentenced to returning home.

Mum, she knew nothing at all. Like the first time when we returned home she saw we had changed in our selves but she put it down to the consequences of the war. I had wanted to tell her back then what we'd seen over the time. I wanted to tell her that we'd met centaurs and fauns and griffins, that we had all been crowned. I wanted her to be proud of me for being High Queen of another world.

Similarly my child's Father was a king, a great king who had gone against the nature of all his people to become the great man he was. I wanted to tell my Mum about his awful childhood and his deep black eyes. I wanted her to know Caspian in the way the rest of my family did. I wanted her to see what had happened, to see I had done a good and right thing. I thought about Aslan's words, he had told me to be brave and strong through the hardships that lay ahead and so I would be, I would do all I could to make this time better.

I lay back in the itchy bed, letting my head hit the pillow. My rounding tummy stuck up under the blankets. I hadn't realised it was getting bigger, of course it would I just hadn't expected it to happen so soon.

It felt so quick, from the time I had discovered the baby to now. Time had flown past us. I wondered how fast time had gone back home in Narnia. In only a year 1300 had passed us by, no one we had known in our time was even remembered. Was my baby's Father still alive? Or was he now a member of the history books and one of the paintings in the How. I looked at the people sleeping either side of me, a mother lay on one side and a grandmother on the other side. As I moved my head to get a better look I heard a crunch from under my pillow. Lifting my head I fished around and found a little parcel which had came undone with my tossing and turning.

The note had been wrapped in a cotton hankie and it was written on the paper from a copy book. I opened up the quarter fold carefully, hearing each fibre stretch.

I smiled when I opened it, if the handkerchief hadn't given it away the handwriting certainly did. It was Lucy's writing, her scatty yet precise style that was very distinct.

Dear Susan,

I wanted to make sure that you know it's ok. We were surprised, Edmund and I, but we're sure this is the right thing otherwise Aslan wouldn't have let you come home like this. Mum will be mad but she doesn't understand and she can't understand. We do and we won't let anything bad happen.

I smiled to myself, sometimes Lucy could just be so innocent still. Even if she had once been twenty four years old she could really still be a child, the little girl we all knew would never really grow up. I hoped she never had to. She was right though, as powerless as they were towards my fate I knew that I could rely on my council of retired royal's to be there as and when I needed them to be. I knew my brothers and sister would fight for me just like they had done against Rabadash. Surely one mother was less of a threat than the whole of Archenland's army. They were powerless against Mum though, we all were because Mum wasn't an army, she wasn't a Narnian and couldn't be put in place. My siblings could do nothing but support me mentally until Mum decided what to do.

Turning my head to the other side I thought about Father. Would Mum tell him? I wasn't sure, perhaps I'd be sent away to have my child and be brought home without a whisper to him. Perhaps he would sent me to a home and not wish to ever hear my name again. I didn't think he would take such hard action but he didn't think I would behave like I did.

It was so infuriating that in one hour's time I had felt and given and taken so much love, so much intimacy that now I had to pay for it all, I had been punished for inappropriate love. It didn't make sense.

My mind wandered back to the golden age, to the days when the country held its breath if I met a suitor more than once. They had been desperate for me to bare a child. If I had a suitor put up in the castle for a night the morning after I'd have maids watching my stomach as if expecting an instant effect. Did the Narnians want me to carry their heir that much? Had Aslan specifically selected me for this task? All the others had theres, Peter protected the country, Edmund kept it in line, Lucy produced love and hope and I... Sat there and looked pretty. Maybe this was my job, my promise to Narnia through being gentle.

I was getting ahead of my thoughts, turning my head again I began to try and make up a story in my head like I had when I was little. Eventually I must have fallen asleep.

I started awake by the gentle nudging of a young nurse. She smiled at me, her freckles standing out against her clean and basic uniform. She had a tray of breakfast for me which she propped over my legs and moved on to the next woman.

The tray held a glass of water and a bowl of watery porridge, not like the type my Mum made at home. Her porridge was always thick but not so thick that a skin formed. The oats were almost separate from the water, it looked like bits of barley floating around instead of oats. I tried my best to eat a few mouthfuls but I wasn't particularly hungry and no one in their right mind would ever be hungry enough to eat that.

The woman to my left, the grandmother was talking to the nurse. She was whispering for gossip on the new patient. I pretended not to hear but listened closely, casually letting my spoon slip around the bowl.

"Polly, you know I'm not supposed to speak to you," the young nurse hissed but the old woman persisted.

"I heard her name, Susan Pevensie- a friend of mine knows her. Can't I hear what's wrong at least?"

The nurse rolled her eyes in exasperation and hissed,

"Suspected Rubella but that isn't the case! If your friend wants to know more he should enquire himself." And with that the nurse left.

The curtains had been opened along with the windows so light and air flew into the ward, bringing dust particles to life and letting them dance in the sun. The sun reminded me of better times and a smile glowed inside me for a short while before the odd old woman next to me caught my eyes. She watched me like I was a caged animal, I wondered who this friend was because I really felt she was telling the truth and her friend did know me. I didn't know any ladies named Polly, not a single one.

Each time I looked round I found her watching me and I was starting to get unnerved when eventually she spoke.

"I know you're not stupid child, my name is Polly Plummer- I know who you are," she paused and bowed her head slightly. She really did know who I was and I knew her name from somewhere. It certainly wasn't a Narnian name but how else could she have heard of me?

"Susan?" My mothers voice pulled me straight out of my thoughts in time to see her walk down the ward. She wore her usual attire, a hat and leather gloves were all on her person and she was trailing Lucy by the hand behind her. I noticed my little sisters saddened face, there were tear stains down her cheeks. I suddenly felt very sick. Something was wrong. My mother's face was set hard like stone she didn't show any emotions at all but I could see tears hadn't long crossed her eyes.

Mum passed straight by me, continuing to drag Lucy and spoke to a Nurse who quickly nodded and headed off out the doors. My mother didn't approach me at all until the Nurse came back with a bearded doctor in a long white coat. The three of them crossed over to me, my heart rate doubled. This wasn't good news. Thoughts of my family passed through my mind, I silently prayed that everything was alright- shoved away the thought that my brothers were in another ward. Or worse.

"Miss Pevensie, you are now allowed to leave. Your medication shall be forwarded to your new residence."

My heart rate tripled, my new residence. I caught the despairing look of Polly beside me as I was helped into a dressing gown and slippers and led away by the doctor. He rested his hand firmly on my shoulder and marched me from the room with Mum and Lucy following. We were taken through the hospital, walking for what felt like miles until the doctor eventually led us into a small office with four chairs. He let me go once I was through the door as if I might run away like a criminal. My mother took a seat on one of the small itchy looking chairs and placed Lucy on another. I took the final itchy chair, siting on my hands to stop biting my nails. I felt griffins and Phoenix's flying in my stomach, burning the insides into submission.

"How dare you do something so selfish! Susan, I am astounded at this behaviour, why did you?" My mum exploded, wringing her hands in fury. Her mood snapped and tears rolled down her cheeks instead,

"You were always such a good girl. I am so disapointed."

Lucy had also began to cry and she shot off her chair and engulfed me in her little arms, squeezing me for all it was worth.

"She's going to send you away!" Lucy bawled like a toddler,

"She's going to send you to a home!"

"Come now Lucy, you know your sister hasn't given us an ounce of choice with her selfish behaviour!" My Mother tried to reason. I was barely able to hear the words that came out her mouth. I was selfish in her eyes, I was bad and disobedient. I felt betrayed, worse than any betrayal I'd felt before. Worse than when Edmund abandoned us, worse than when Aslan made me leave Caspian. She was my mother, she was supposed to love me unconditionally forever. All the memories we had together, all the hugs and smiles, the thought she had out into naming her first daughter, all of it was washed away at tsunami speeds. She was sending me away because of the baby, because we had to keep up appearances! I had forgotten how cruel people could be, to think I had pitied Caspian over the stories of his uncle's treachery and my own Mother was abandoning me in a home.

"Why?" I managed to whisper, clinging to Lucy as though she was my heart itself.

"Susan?" Mum reached across with her hand to try and touch me but I refused to move at all, I didn't want her to touch me because I knew I would forgive her if I did, and forgiveness was far from part of my current plans.

"You know this needs to happen, all actions have consequences. Your childish behaviour has simply helped to prove you are still too young to understand. You will come home once it arrives and life will go on, you will have learned your lesson but surely you understand you can't live with us in that condition. Think of the example you are setting Lucy, think of what people will say!"

A tear dropped down onto the top of Lucy's little head and disappeared in her parting.

"Where will I go?" A frog somewhere in my throat asked. A vulnerable little girl was beginning to speak out rather than the confident woman I wished would find her voice. I was angry at myself for not putting up a proper fight.

"You are going to St Bernadette's home for Mothers. A groundsman is coming to collect you. Lucy and I will stay until he arrives. I've not got any things for you to take because you will be supplied clothes by the church. We can visit you each month for a short while and you can write to us, though I will have to bring you stamps. I'm sorry my dear, but you shouldn't have been so silly in the first place."

I wanted to scream, I wanted to hit her or have her beheaded. I was shaking with shock and fury combined. How could she do this? How could she be so cruel, appearances were more important than me, than my welfare and the welfare of her own grandchild. She didn't even know the entire story, she only presumed she knew.

The next hour passed silently other than the noise of the clock. I was determined not to say another word, I was disgusted by my own Mum. Lucy continued to hug me to death, squeezing me and crying into my dressing gown. Lucy had never spent a night alone in her life before- we had always shared a room and even now the valiant Queen was a little scared of the dark. She'd never lived without me by her side, neither had Edmund.

A sudden realisation made me even more angry at my mum. She could have allowed me to come home before I was sent away, the boys wouldn't even get to say goodbye. They might not see me for months, did they even know I was going away? I might not see another member of those I loved for a whole five months.

The young nurse with the freckles who'd served breakfast came back to collect us. Lucy had to be firmly told to let me go, I thought Mum was going to smack her before she finally released me. My sister was crying hard, more than she had the night Rhubarb disappeared. I realised her hankie was still under my pillow, I didn't even have that to comfort her. She just had to stand and watch as the nurse walked me away from her.

Two days is an awfully short time in one place for it to leave a lasting effect but two days was all I needed in St Bernadette's. On my first day I was introduced to a world I hadn't seen since the outback of Archenland. The place Tabitha had taken me to hadn't been the half of it. I was taken to a dormitory around the size of Cair Paravel's great hall which housed at least thirty to forty beds. These beds were arranged in army barrack fashion and dressed with equally styled bed clothes. The bed I was given was identical to all the others in the row. It was made of black wrought iron but it sagged in the middle. The sheet was like that in the hospital and the beds only had one blanket made of cotton and one rough knitted blanket to keep the inhabitant warm in a building that only had two fire places- neither of which were in the dormitory. The rest of the home was downstairs. A rough living room, which had eight chairs of various designs and comforts and no curtains, was the largest room on the bottom floor. There was also a kitchen and dining room, filled with workhouse benches from which we'd eat our meals. There was also an office and a laundry room. The rest of the large building was home to the staff, which was quarter the size of the inmates.

We had to rise at five o'clock every morning and kneel by our beds to pray for the forgiveness of our sins. We then were dressed and began the mass of everyday chores before breakfast at half past seven. The day continued in the same way until bed at seven in the evening. The home itself wasn't too terrible a place- at least we knew it was clean but the people who lived there were rough, all took an instant dislike to me, calling me a snob and taking every opportunity to do something that would upset me.

The majority of the inhabitants were real eastenders, they spoke in cockney that I couldn't understand and were convinced I didn't belong with them. The worst of the lot was a girl called Mathilda, she was a large girl who's size almost masked her baby altogether. Mathilda saw me on the day I arrived and began to make my time awful, within an hour not a single girl would dare to look at me let alone speak. I sat at the end of the bench at mealtimes, I did the worst jobs and I tried not to cry in my creaky bed at night. I felt like a ghost girl, like I'd died from my illness rather than recovered. I only spoke a few words each day when one of the nurses in the staff called me to her office for my medicine.

The worst jobs throughout the day were generally assigned to me. I got to clean the toilets out the back in the tiny square patch of garden. I got given the stairs to wash along with one other girl who also wasn't particularly liked. The girl was called Anya and she was black, that was why they wouldn't speak to her. I felt for Anya since she had to work so hard and her baby couldn't be far of. Her stomach was so swollen under the blue dress and grey jersey she always seemed to be wearing. I noticed how much she struggled to move, how much her back hurt her because of her size. Anya was young too- all of us were but she was even younger than I was. She never spoke to me and I didn't try to speak to her, I didn't want to cause her further embarrassment if she didn't speak English.

Our meals were good, better than they were at home since the ratio books of the house allowed twenty eggs and over a litre of orange juice between us all. There was the chance for cakes to be baked without growing hungry for a week before hand. We had a small crop of vegetables in the strip of garden and they made up most of our meals to a decent amount.

The life shouldn't have been that bad but for me it just made my longing for home even worse. For my real home, Narnia.

I missed the glow of the twin suns in the early morning, I missed the horns of centaurs and lyres of fauns. I missed the stars and the smooth ground beneath bare feet. I missed the places of unbelievable beauty and the people. The people like this child's father. I remembered his smile, his dark, dark eyes and the hair that fluttered in the wind like my own- even if Peter considered it pretty Girly. I missed it all, I wanted to go home but not to my mother, to my real home where I was loved by everyone and everything to a respectable extent.

I was there a week when things began to change. The matron of the home, whom I had only seen once before on the day of my arrival, came to see me at breakfast. She stalked into the room and announced that I was to come to her office. She was a young and very beautiful woman, who I was shocked to learn was unmarried. She had the fairest hair and very bright blue eyes, the image of Adolf Hitler's Aryan race. The office she led me to was adjacent with the dormitory we all slept in on the first floor.

It was a tiny room. A shaggy rug lay on the floor, bowed to the feet of a heavy-looking mahogany desk. The desk was host to a brass lamp which was so old and gothic-looking I was sure it had to be oil rather than electric. She sat down on the only chair behind the desk, crossing her ankles under her. She then lifted a pair of fine, gold rimmed spectacles to her nose and watched me for a moment.

"You have found yourself promoted Miss Pevensie. In the floor above we have another type of home, it is home to those babies that haven't been adopted yet. Here they stay until five, when they must go on to a state orphanage. At the moment we have found ourselves very short staffed due to a flu pandemic and seeing you have recovered well from the strange illness you had on arrival and since you are still fit enough, you are to be given a position in the Nursery for a number of weeks."

I had to try hard not to smile. I felt like I'd been given a special treat. I would get to spend some time away from the horrid girls and I'd get to play with the babies in the nursery. I didn't mind one bit, I'd enjoyed caring for neighbours children both in Finchley and back in Narnia- though a human baby and a centaur foal have many differences.

The matron saw the way my eyes must have lit with excitement- I could even feel my heart leap at the chance to escape- but she didn't smile or show any sign that she was pleased for me.

"Things are not always as they seem Miss Pevensie." Her tone was eerily hollow. My heart sunk a little further into my chest, forgetting its earlier excitement. I didn't get a chance to ask or even think about what she meant because she stood and walked from the room straight after that sentence. I guessed I was supposed to follow her and felt like a little lost duckling doing so.

The matron walked like a queen and there was something about her that reminded me of Jadis, a person no one wanted to relate to. A few steps more to her left and there was a door I'd always presumed was another cupboard but I'd learned long ago that doors don't always lead where you expect.

The door opened to reveal a narrow wooden staircase encased in cracked brickwork. It looked like the way into an attic. The matron tugged on a small light, which only added to the gloom and the spiderwebs. She took the stairs ahead of me, each one creaking and groaning to the point I thought I might fall through. The steps creaked and complained further into the dark. I heard the click of the lightbulb string and was instantly blinded by at least a dozen bulbs dangling from the ceiling.

The image of a sunlit nursery full of toys disappeared before my eyes. I stood on the top step looking into a ghost land of a nursery. There were rows of iron cots on the bare floorboards, each holding an infant of some age or other. Tiny bundles lay wailing in their swaddling blankets while toddlers stood wailing with sodden nappies. The matron led me past the twelve cots to a smaller collection of six small wooden beds. At the very edge of the room were some very basic toys. A little girl sat on her bed playing with a rag doll which had lost most of its hair while a boy cantered a three legged horse across the floor.

"There are nine children here at present: George, Lily, Richard, Emily, Archie, Toby, Holly, Vincent and Amelia. George, Archie and Emily are the three older children the others have their names attached to their cots. Tilly is the name of the woman who cares for them daily, however I have no idea where she is at present. Tilly will be able to run you through your job here and explain what is expected. I'll leave you now, I'm sure Tilly will return soon."

With that the Jadis incarnate swept off and back down the stairs. I glanced around, by the looks of things Tilly hadn't arrived yet and these poor children had been alone in the dark all night long. The smell in the air said there were plenty wet bottoms amongst the little ones and the noise proclaimed plenty empty bellies too. The older children sat watching me from their end of the room, not one said a word. The third boy turned to look at me from where he lay and I instantly understood why he hadn't been adopted. His left eye was bright red and swollen, it only opened a crack when his right did. He had been born with only one eye. He was abandoned because he was different looking. As I scanned the cots I saw it was almost a duplicate situation. The little girl, Emily, had red hair and her front teeth stuck forward, twisting over themselves. The baby in the first cot had a large purple birth mark covering half it's face, the toddler next door had no arms, not even a hint they had once began to grow. These children had been left here without anyone because they looked odd. I had never seen a person without arms before but my time in Narnia had taught me to accept the abilities of every type if creature. These children were cast away, and to think the great politicians found Hitler's behaviour atrocious. This was in England that these babies lay in their cots day on day without a mother!

But there was nothing I could do, once more I was forced to remember I had no power over the laws in England, I was an even lower member of society than I had been before the baby. I walked straight over to the first cot, keeping my head held high as I lifted what turned our to be Toby from his bed. He stank to high heaven but as soon as his head touched my chest he stopped crying. He knew something was finally going to happen.

(A/N) Review? Please? I have to admit there wasn't as much real research into this chapter as I'd have liked but I did my best, the info just wasn't there!

I'd like to ask you guys for some help here, I'd like the baby to be introduced to Narnian traditions when it comes along but the world of Narnian culture doesn't stretch far enough to include the celebration of new life. I'd like some real or made up baby traditions that you think seem Narnian. And thanks once more for reading! Ps special thanks to Lillyz for your suggestions!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter six  
I'd managed to rummage about in the large cupboard across from the slim staircase and find a clean nappy for Toby only to find there was nowhere to lie him. I had to place the little wriggler in his cot and dodge out of his way when he attempted to wee all over me. Luckily for me I'd had an unfortunate experience with a baby Edmund and knew very well what baby boys were capable of. Once one nappy was changed I certainly couldn't leave the other six lying in their soggy clothes and before Tilly arrived I'd been long up to my elbows in the contents of six nappies. The little girls and boys, which ranged from tiny baby Amelia up to,Vincent who was almost too big for his iron cot were all dressed in the same hand knitted clothes. You could tell their clothes were donated by the church who funded the home. There wasn't a single item of clothing that was specifically for one child. I couldn't find anything which actually fitted Amelia, who was one of the tiniest children I'd ever seen and so young she cried for the warmth and closeness of her mother.  
Once I'd came to the last child, labeled Lily, I'd ran out of terry towelling for another nappy and had to wrap a spare sheet around her little bottom instead.  
Also in the room, on the side of the large cupboard, there was a huge white Belfast sink and a small stove. I tossed the old nappies in the sink to be washed but couldn't find any carbolic soap to wash them with. I presumed these babies would be fed on formula milk and I managed to find a small collection of glass bottles and rubber teats but I didn't know the recipe for formula milk so the poor tot's would just have to cry.  
The three older children were very wary of me and I didn't really know what to say to them. The one with the missing eye was first to get out of his bed and tiptoe across to me. He wore a long dress-like nightshirt and his little tiny feet were bare. He was fiddling with his nightshirt and I soon understood why. The little one, who must have been only three or four years old hadn't been allowed to the toilet since the night before and going by the terrible attendance of their carer that could've been hours. I didn't really know what to do with him, I presumed they weren't supposed to go downstairs to the same toilets we used but I couldn't think where else to take him, obviously he was too young to go alone. I had to turf disgruntled babies back into their cots so they couldn't hurt themselves and told the two remaining children not to touch anything until I came back.  
I ended up carrying the little boy down the stairs, sure he wouldn't manage to wait if we went at his speed. On the way out the back of  
the house I learned the boy was called George, so the other had to be Archie. George didn't know how old he was and I wasn't surprised. I almost asked him about his family before biting my tongue and remembering he had no family. Poor boy, I didn't know what there would be in life without my family. I'd never seen a day without an older brother, even if at one time he pulled my hair.  
When George and I walked back up to the nursery we were surprised to find another girl there. Girl certainly seemed the right word to describe her since she couldn't have been much taller than Lucy and she certainly didn't have the curvaceous shape of a woman. She wore her blonde hair in a long braid down her back, tied with a hair ribbon and she was dressed in the same blue dress that I'd squeezed into that morning. She looked like a miniature resident but by the way she was busily mumbling to the children and by the way Archie and Emily followed her like lost kittens, I presumed this was Tilly.  
I didn't know whether I should speak or just let her get on with her work. She was dangling Vincent on her hip while at minding the stove and that alarmed me enough to open my move.  
Sometimes I wondered if bring Queen for fifteen years had given me less common sense because of course, the moment I began to speak Tilly got such a fright that she almost dropped Vincent.  
"Oh! You startled me, I guess you must be the girl matron sent to help. I do really appreciate it dearly but don't worry I won't work you too hard, especially not as it gets to dropping time," she giggled as though she was half-mad and I began to wonder if this was really such a good idea.  
"I see you've met our George. Emily said he was with you miss..?"  
"Susan, just Susan."  
"Oh, alright Susan. Well, I guess I should give you all the background." Tilly took two quick steps across the floor and placed Vincent on his chubby feet then pranced back to turn off the stove.  
"Would you go in the bottom drawer and bring me six bottles?" She asked, removing the mix from the heat, never stopping the chatter.  
"We've got Amelia, Lily, Vincent, Toby, Richard and Holly to feed. I saw you changed them, thank you they get awful sores sometimes because I can't get here easily enough. And the older ones will get dressed, then I'll have some time to get to know you."  
So we set about work as Tilly said and soon got through the morning's jobs. Tilly was a cheerful person, she reminded me of Lucy in some ways. She saw the good in every part of the situation. She spun tails to the babies and hugged the older kids. It wasn't long till the were all settled, all laying or crawling or playing on the floor except tiny Amelia who lay snuggly in Tilly's arms.  
"Where are you from then?" Tilly began again  
"Finchley, I lived with my Mum, Dad two brothers and sister."  
"I always wanted a little sister, I'm the youngest, only two of us though. My brother Alec is 25.  
"I'm the second child, Peter is eleven months older than me. Edmund is two years younger than me and Lucy is eighteen months younger. She's twelve, she's never spent a night of her life without me till now." I tried to talk around the lump in my throat. I missed my plucky little sister, her cheeky grin and her bright eyes. I remembered how she'd clung to me when she had to say goodbye.  
Tilly patted my shoulder comforting me,  
"You were close. I'm sorry." I shook my head, blinking to clear the lump in my throat.  
"It's alright, it was me who got in this state."  
Tilly grinned,  
"Can I have a feel?" I was stunned by her sudden change of subject but nodded uncertainly. Tilly clasped a hand on either side of my stomach, squeezing and prodding and rubbing all across my stomach.  
"Ooh," she grinned, "its a good size, a real big baby you've got in there."  
I gave her an odd look, wondering how on earth she knew that.  
Tilly blushed, moving her hands away,  
"I wanted to be a midwife, got a good way through my training and then my parents couldn't pay for it anymore. I know how it's lying I there too." Her hands moved back and she pointed out the baby's head then it's spine, telling me to press hard so I could feel the baby in there. It felt strange, of course I'd seen that my stomach was expanding constantly, I'd seen my scar expand and become uglier than before but I'd never really thought about the thing in there. Never once had I felt beyond the tight skin.  
"I think it's beautiful you know, so magical how babies grow and how they come about. You don't have to tell me but- what was the baby's Father like?"  
I smiled,  
"He was a lovely man. He has the most enchanting eyes, they're almost  
Black. He's strong and good even if he has a little bit of a temper. I think I loved him, and I think he loved me too. His name was Caspian."  
"I've never heard that name before,"  
"No, he's not from around here."  
"He sounds nice." I laughed inwardly,  
"Many people would be put off by his long hair, mind you those muscles,"  
Tilly laughed,  
"So he's sporty? Or works hard. " I tried not to smile, thinking I could have fun with this one.  
"Well he works hard but he's a different sort of sportsman- he's a swordsman."  
Tilly's eyes widened, she was impressed by my odd choice.  
"What does he do?"  
I was really struggling and as cruel as it was I decided for the first time ever I'd tell her the truth.  
"He rules."  
"Rules?"  
"Yes, he's the Crown Prince."  
Tilly's eyes leapt out their sockets and her mouth opened in total surprise.  
"What! So that baby-,"  
I grinned, aware I looked ridiculous but not really caring, it was the most fun I'd had in ages.  
"Yes, my baby is next inline to the thrown."  
"Are you pulling my leg?" I shook my head, poor girl must have been so overwhelmed. Eventually she laughed in delight,  
"I've just touched a royal baby, oh I wish I could deliver it! How fantastic would that feel. " I laughed at her, again so like Lucy.  
I spent another few weeks at St Bernadette's before things began to change. I began to change too, as Tilly had warned me all of a sudden a beachball exploded out from my stomach and I began to feel the strain it was putting on my body. I struggled to get up in time for breakfast and was well ready for bed by eight at night. Tilly just nodded and smiled when I complained but she began to take on more of the day's work than she used to. The older children began to see what was happening too, they became curious and somehow seemed to know to be careful.  
As mad as it sounded I was beginning to like Tilly and the disorganised nursery I worked in, however it made me fear for my own child. In most cases I should be expected to fear he or she would end up in the same places but my fear was more selfish than that. I didn't feel anything for it, I knew it was in there and growing and how it came to be but there was no love. A new mother was supposed to adore her baby straight away, supposed to enjoy all the little details but I didn't. I'd felt the tot kicking me by now, felt it do a complete head over heals in my belly but it didn't make my heart flutter with love. It did nothing to me, I was always being told I was the motherly one- the family member who was always there when someone needed hugged. I loved seeing the babies I worked with each and every day but still, nothing.  
I didn't tell anyone how I felt, I didn't think anyone would understand. How could the gentle Queen not even love her own child, her own tiny baby?  
Little did I know that as I was getting used to St Bernadette's things were going on at home, my siblings were stepping in to help me even if they didn't need to.  
I was scrubbing little Holly in the big sink in the nursery, trying not to get too soaked by flapping chubby hands. I loved the sweet face of the little girl, her light brown hair and her dimples were so sweet. She always giggled as soon as she hit the water, I remembered Mum saying the same thing about me when I was little. Tilly had left early. She was very worried about her mother who was sixty five years old, having had her children very late, and who had been very ill the night before. Tilly had quickly helped me bath most of the children before I told her to go and see to her mother. It was only the back of seven o'clock but already the rest of the house seemed quiet. There had been a few births lately and that was when Tilly had explained the real reason for our attic babies. St Bernadette's was a private organisation and was solely in charge of the adoption of all children born there. The children we looked after were the unadoptables, the babies no one had wanted and so they were hidden up here, waiting for someone to take pitty.  
I was surprised to here footsteps on the stairs and the hushed voice of Matron but Holly was a real pest at times and I couldn't take my eyes off her for a second. I knew it wasn't one of the older trio being a nuisance because they were all settled on their beds waiting for a story- I had recently began to tell them all about Narnia and what had happened to my characterised Paul, Sarah, Eric and Laura.  
I listened but couldn't hear anything that was being said at the bottom of the stairs. After a moment the door shut and the feet continued to pad slowly up the stairs towards me. The feet stopped at the top, my eyes began to itch with the need to turn round so I grabbed a blanket to wrap soggy Holly in and pretended not to notice what was going on behind me.  
A deep voice cleared its throat behind me before the voice of an old man spoke,  
"Good evening your majesty." The voice that spoke sent relief right through me, like a warm bath after a day in the snow. Great uncle Professor Diggory Kirke. The only man alive who knew our story, the only man who was an adult and had some significance in making choices and demanding things.  
The mad looking older man chuckled as I turned around, a sodden baby in one arm and hugged him tightly. He laughed once more, stroking my hair as I held onto him. He smelled of tobacco, books and dampness. To me he somehow still smelled Narnian after all the years.  
Holly gave an irritated whiney noise which brought me to my senses and I let go of the man. He smiled, his eyes still as childlike as ever under the rims of his glasses.  
"What are you doing here, sir?"  
"I received a letter from three very worried authors explaining their sister was in trouble. Your siblings told me all that had happened and I wrote back to my niece, your Mother, saying I'd heard the situation and with her permission you could come and stay with me, your majesty."  
I didn't know what to think, I was getting away from this horrible place but at the same time leaving Tilly all alone when her mother was so ill. I wanted to go with the Professor but I was needed here.  
"What is the matter my dear, I thought you would be pleased?"  
"Oh I am, I just feel for the poor children. Tilly, the girl I work with, her mother is sick and I think she needs me here." The professor shook his head, smiling to myself.  
"The other place really does change our views. I can completely understand why you were named the Gentle Queen. You must go against your nature and think about the next generation."  
I felt my cheeks glow, it was odd for an older man to address my condition, it felt strange to think he knew all about how I had became like this, that wasn't something I wanted a sixty year old man to be thinking about.  
"You, my Queen, are soon to give birth to a very special baby, the stars are aligned to say exactly that." I didn't think the stars in our world could tell such things because our stars were not living as those in Narnia were. The look on the professor's face showed he was telling the truth, the stars awaited my baby's birth- just as they had the birth of baby Jesus.  
"You find it quite overwhelming don't you, I'm sorry you've had to miss out on thinking time. But Aslan knew you could do this, otherwise he wouldn't have allowed it to happen. I think it is just like in the story you told me, you may not be ready yet but when the time comes you will be."  
I certainly hoped he was right, I didn't feel ready but then I hadn't felt ready to be Queen, not by a long shot, until the crown was placed on my head. Perhaps I wouldn't feel ready to be a mother until my baby was placed in my arms.  
"Now, I think you have some children to settle to sleep, then we must go. We shall be staying in London tonight and will continue home tomorrow morning. You'll be able to telephone your brothers and sister at the hotel, let them know everything is going to plan. Your mother's allowed them to come and visit for a few days after the new year has begun, I had to twist some arms for that one- Lucy does make an excellent weapon doesn't she?" He grinned again, I knew exactly what he meant.  
As I continued to put the children to bed I began to explain to the Professor what had happened since we'd last visited Narnia. I told him all about the telmarine invasion and the wiping out of many animals. I told him how time had passed so fast there and we had became the legend rather than the prophecy. I told him about the battle and the raid on the castle. Eventually, after all the children were tucked up, I told him about Caspian. He listened, he didn't say anything at all while I was explaining and his expires soon showed only interest. Not once did he show that he thought I was stupid or anything like it. He cared in a way my own Mum hasn't cared.  
"You will need a coat, your Majesty, it's snow-cold outside."  
"You could just call me Susan, I'm certainly not used to titles any more."  
"I don't call you that because I can't remember your name but out of respect for you. To me you are as much my Queen as George is my King, and you wouldn't go up to him and call him Georgie, would you?" I laughed, Professor Kirke really was a Narnian by heart- even if he'd only been there for a short while. It showed what an effect the beautiful country had on all of us who were lucky enough to have seen it.  
"I'm afraid I don't have a coat sir, and I shall call you that out of a matter of respect also, agreed?"  
"Yes your highness. I'm sure we can speak to the matron." I snorted, the Jadis incarnate was unlikely to do anything for me and I told him that too.  
"We shall see," came his reply, a ry smile on his lips, the corners of her eyes bright. I took one last look around the nursery of unwanted children, stroking the heads of Toby and George, Archie and Emily, Vincent and Holly, Lily and Amelia and Richard. Saying goodbye to the sweet little kids for the last time. I twisted the key on a battered tin music box and let a soft tune flutter out from the strings inside. The professor laid husband on my back and escorted me down the stairs without another word.

Christmas came and went without much joy. The Professor, Mrs Macready, Ivy, Mary and I shared a Christmas dinner of suckling pig and livers. We each opened a small present and we celebrated well into the evening around the professor's piano. Even Mrs Macready joined in after a few glasses of sherry. I was happier than I had been in a whole but it wasn't Christmas without Lucy waking up at six and without Edmund lighting the Christmas pudding and just missing his fingers. It wasn't Christmas without the wireless blasting out in the living room as three pairs danced around the floor. The professor got a little worried I think when the sherry made me giggly and he had Mrs Macready escort me to my room.  
I fell asleep instantly but woke with a chill in the middle of the dark night. I had a strong urge to go someplace, the place where it all began. I slipped my feet out of the blankets and onto the cold wooden floor, tiptoeing across and out the room. I followed the light from an uncovered window. Down the stairs, up the stairs, across the corridor, round the corner and the second door. I opened the door to that room. The wardrobe loomed in front of me, lit by the window covered in tape. The carvings on the doors called for me and I walked closer till my hand was out, ready to grab the door handle. The handle twisted in my hand and the fur coats were revealed to me. For some strange reason I climbed inside, sat hunched up, squashing my stomach in an attempt to hug my knees. It was freezing cold, so cold I had to touch the wooden back to make sure. There was no way back. I was too old, I didn't feel too old. If anything I felt too young to have to say goodbye to that life, too young to give up all I'd loved. I'd lost everything I ever had. Tears clouded in my eyes, I felt like Dorothy. 'There's no place like home.'  
"Susan."  
My eyes snapped open. I knew that voice. My elbow knocked the back of the wardrobe, still wooden then how?  
"Susan," Caspian's hand found my cheek and suddenly I could see him crouched across from me. I closed my eyes, leaning into his rough hand. Every nerve in my body went live and began to yearn for him. He went from a crouch onto his knees and leant over me, so close I could feel the warmth of his breath. His lips found mine, soft and gentle but I wasn't allowing that and threw an arm round his neck, forcing his lips open in a more vigorous kiss. He sighed in return and pulled me closer. He felt my stomach on his and stopped all of a sudden. Nudging me away from him so he could see. His eyes wide with confusion and amazement he placed his hands on either side of my belly.  
"That's our baby," I whispered, looking him right in the eye. His eyes opened even more till I could see a fine line around his iris. He didn't say anything, rubbing his hands around my stomach, feeling everything there was to feel. He drew his mouth back to mine, kissing me again and again and again.  
We somehow ended up out of the wardrobe and I led him back to my room, not even thinking how awful it would appear to be caught. We sat back on my bed, I placed his hands in mine, squeezing them tightly and felt tears begin to spill, tipping over my eyelids and falling into our entangled hands.  
"It's alright your majesty, it's alright." He soothed but I couldn't stop, I couldn't believe he was here. I'd never thought I would see him again and here he was, sitting right next to me.  
"How did you get here?" I sobbed. He shook his head,  
"I don't know, I was sleeping and now I'm here. And you, you are with child?" I nodded, moving our hands up over my belly  
"Our baby, after only once. I don't know what'll happen to it, my mother has disowned me for having it but I can't leave it. The stars are aligned, they are already announcing the birth of a royal baby."  
"Aslan would only do what is right." I felt anger begin to fizzle,  
"Why does everyone keep saying that? What would make him do this to me? I didn't want this to happen, I'm not ready!" Caspian moved his hands placing them on my shoulders.  
"No, Susan. You let fear get in the way of your own sanity, you must have faith." He was right, I knew it but I was yet to feel it.  
"I'm sorry, it's not your fault." He smiled and kissed my forehead.  
"I have never regretted what happened and if it led to this then so be it. I can't speak for you, I didn't expect this but I don't feel that it's wrong."  
"I love you Caspian," he smiled and his lips began to nuzzle mine once more. We were both filled with a thirst, a desperate need that had to be completed and fulfilled. A thirst which couldn't be filled by open mouthed, explorative kisses. A thirst that soon enough had me pinned underneath him, my heart hammering in my rib cage. The baby squirmed, excited by my emotions, Caspian felt it move and remembered, snapping out of his animalistic behaviour.  
"Won't I hurt you? Or it?"  
I shook my head, pulling his face back to mine. I wasn't sure, not in the slightest but I didn't really care. Tonight I was going to think about myself, do as the professor said and think for me rather than the whole world in one.

He held me close, skin on skin as we found our breath and let our heart beats slow to normal. He burried his head in my neck, chewing it gently.  
"I don't want you to have to leave, I want us to stay together I want you and I and our baby to find a home and get married. I want to have another child, or another two. I want to stay with you forever. I whispered as he suckled my skin. Moving away from me he looked me in the eyes,  
"You know that's what I want too, you know I'd stay with you but I fear that may not happen."  
"I know."  
I curled up on his chest, feeling the muscles and scars from battles past. I fell asleep almost instantly, feeling happier than I had in months.  
When I awoke I was alone, lying sleeping in my bed as if nothing had happened. The sun shone through the curtains, my head pounded, a knife hacking at my skull. I was alone once more, with the world resting on my shoulders and once more I burst into tears.

(A/N) this might be quite short but I knew where I wanted it to end! What do you think? Was Caspian really there or was Susan just drunk?  
I'm looking for ideas for a drawing I want to do for The Next Four Months- it would be a water colour and I have my ideas for Susan, Caspian and Peter but how could I draw Lucy and Edmund? Ideas please?  
Thanks for reading- please comment!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter seven

"Honestly! I told Diggory that a girl your size shouldn't take so much but he wouldn't listen." Mrs Macready arrived in my ear and I realised I must have dozed back to sleep. She pulled back the quilt and blankets and thrust a hot mug in my hands.

"Stewed tea," she announced,

"It'll get your head back in order." She flounced over to the curtains and pulled them open, blinding me with bright winter light. I squinted in the light and the housekeeper came back over to me, she was peering at me through her glasses,

"What a mark you've got there, honestly alcohol causes so much trouble." She tutted shaking her head and left the room.

My heart grew wings and began to flutter in my chest. The mark on my neck, that meant it had all happened. I had been with Caspian the night before, he had really been there it wasn't just a drunken hallucination. I pushed a hand onto my neck, touching, feeling for a mark. The skin was tender, bruised.

I felt something flipping in my stomach and smiled. The little one had met its Father, and it was if Nina knew and remembered. As if he or she was glad even though they couldn't possibly understand. Poor thing, it wasn't its fault that this mess had arisen around the beginning of its little life. The poor thing, I wanted to love it, I wanted it to be the light of my life and the only thing I ever wanted to love. Narnia held half my heart, a quarter was my family's and the other was Caspian's. I was trying to re-shuffle but love was hard to cut back on in any area. Cut backs hurt everyone, that was a truth my Father had said many times, even if it wasn't understood.

A subtle knock sounded on the old door and the professor's bald forehead popped around,

"Excuse me your majesty, sorry to disturb you, but I think I might have found a present for you of sorts. If you'll meet me at the old barn in an hour I'll introduce you." And he disappeared back behind the door. I was curious, what on earth could he have hidden? I dressed quickly, as quickly as I could giving I had to practically stop breathing in order to pull my skirt over my head-it would no longer go up the way and I didn't have enough clothing coupons to afford a few new ones yet.

Mrs Macready was dusting the stairs and scowled when I walked down them but I ignored her, too intrigued to care about the thoughts of the grumpy old woman.

The professor was waiting outside the old barn dressed in a long grey coat that came down past his knees. When I saw him I realised how cold it was and goosebumps prickled my arms through my cardi.

The old barn was boarded up from the front, the doors covered with scrappy planks of greying wood. It was hidden round the back of the huge house so it's appearance wasn't as important as that of the other outbuildings. The barn looked so shabby we'd never shown much interest when we last stayed with the professor. He led me round the back of the barn and through a smaller single door.

I was hugely surprised. The barn was full of yet more of the professors medieval merchandise- a whole museum full. The walls were lined with tapestries and banners in a huge array of different hues. Antlers and portraits, even shamefully the head of a lion hung on the wall. He saw my horror at the stuffed lion, it's mouth pulled open in a mock snarl.

"It was a present. I couldn't refuse, he kept asking if I'd found a place for it. I couldn't look at the poor fellow."

The room fell into silence as my eyes continued to spin and dart across the room. There were glass fronted cases and chests full of different things, ancient artefacts which were almost unimaginable. There were vases made of marble or crystal in ruby and jade. A huge wooden serving bowl which was carved with the contents of the forest, so well made that it appeared Narnian.

There was a gleaming broadsword with a dragon carved into its hilt, an old musket, even a battle axe. The professor led me to the far end of the barn past huge ostrich eggs and bayonets to a wooden fronted case. He opened the oak cupboard and brought out a smaller wooden case which he laid on the big metal table that sat in the middle of the room.

"Here she is," he muttered, more to himself than to me. The smaller case was opened to reveal a red velvet lining and a very unexpected content. The case was home to a traditional, decorated Mountain Ash long bow.

"She's gorgeous," I gasped, feeling somersaults twist inside me in excitement. My arms were practically begging me to lift and draw the beautiful creature.

"Isn't she? Her name is Rìgain, it's Gaelic for Queen. I've had her for years but she's never been strung."

I looked at him in a rather impolite way, totally shocked that this beauty had never been challenged to shoot.

"Really? She's never shot?" The professor shook his head, a smile playing on the corner of his lips. He had clearly expected my reaction.

"I'd hope, my Queen, that you might be able to string her. If so she is all yours to practise as you wish."

He lifted the beauty from her case with his right hand and have her to me. It was odd seeing a bow with no string, I had never actually strung a bow before but I knew how to do it. My own bow had never needed restrung because of her enchantment. The professor laughed once more when I switched the bow to my left hand, the hand it should be held in.

"I've never met a true archer in my time which compares to your supposed skills."

"So you doubt them?"

He laughed again, "Not for so much as one second my lady. I would love to see how it's done though."

"Has she got a string ready?" The professor nodded and lifted up a stiffened piece in the velvet and revealed the quiver. It was leather as most quivers are, and it had been dyed so it wore Celtic crosses and other ancient Scottish symbols- or so I presumed having never been there myself. Even though the quiver was beautiful I couldn't help but compare it to mine, my ivory beauty. The arrows too were basic, fletched with the feathers of a pheasant rather than the scarlet feathers of the Phoenix. The professor must have seen the disappointment in my eyes, he lost his smile for a second,

"I've spent many years looking at some of the most beautiful artwork in the world, some of the most elegant craftsmanship and still none compares to Narnian work. I presume one such as yourself would have had even the best that Narnia had to offer?"

I nodded, taking the arrows from the professor so he could root around in the bottom of the quiver for the string. As he did I explained what my bow and quiver had been like. I told about the beauty of the lion on the arrowheads, the perfectly snipped feather fletching and the smooth, gold banded nock. He listened long after he found the string but didn't show any drop in interest.

"That's what it does to you isn't it? The beautifully country bewitches you and it's all you can think of. I'm afraid it's not something that disappears over time."

"You were right, we did go back- and when we least expected we would. We were on our way back to school."

"I presume," he nodded towards my stomach, "That the child's father is Narnian." I nodded and without any prompt began to tell him the whole story. All barriers that might have existed between a 16 year old and a 60 year old, between a queen and a commoner, between a boy and girl, whispered away with each word I said. I talked about the awful childhood my king had experienced, about the telmarine invasion and the battle. I told him about Caspian's promise to rebuild my home; his promise to marry me the night that the baby came in to formation. I told him more than I'd ever shared before with Peter or Lucy or even mum and it didn't matter, because he listened. I began to cry half way through my story, thinking once more about my hopeless situation. I must have been revising what I'd already said the day he collected me but I truly didn't care.

We must have talked for a good while, and I cried through most of it. The baby flipped and wriggled like mad, trying the best it could to comfort me. Eventually I gave in and rubbed my belly instead, trying to tell the child everything was alright. The professor watched me in silence till I caught his proud gaze.

"What is it?"

"I think that's the first time I've seen you do that."

I looked away, knowing he was right but feeling ashamed all the same.

"It's not the kid's fault, it didn't pick to be born like this. I wished I could care but somehow I didn't."

"You know Susan," I was surprised to here him use my name and with that he had my instant attention,

"I learned when I was a child what love was. My uncle, the one who sent me to Narnia in the first instance, he didn't love me. I know this because he didn't care that he could be putting me and Polly in danger. My Mother on the other hand, she was very very sick when I was a child and I never got to do anything with her at all for a long time. I knew she loved me because she wanted the best for me, you've proved that already. You want the best for your baby even though life has been cruel. Even though you don't feel you love the baby, you already do. Love is a complex thing, sometimes it doesn't ever make itself known until its gone. You will find it when you're ready. Now, we have a bow to string." He smiled and I felt grateful for why he'd told me. It was like having my Father back again. In many ways the Professor was like our grandfather- a wise but gentle old man. I'd never have swapped him for the world.

He handed me the string and together we somehow managed to fight the Rowan into submission and managed to get the string on. It was a real battle to get the other end strung though, both of us squeezed and pushed and fought, jumping out the way when the not missed and the end of the bow twanged, targeting my thigh.

Eventually after much laughing and whipping we wrangled the other end of her and Rìgain was ready for battle.

We brought her out into the light of day although the winter light wasn't quite so nice as a blazing sun would've been.

"She needs tested, " I hinted, drawing and releasing the string. I was handed an arrow and nocked it instantly. It felt good to place the ugly arrow on the string. I felt such a tingle inside me, I was desperate to let her fly, to feel the sting vibrate, to watch the arrow soar through the sky before landing with a satisfying thud.

"I'd love to see how it's done," the professor hinted. I'd almost forgotten he was there.

"Pick a target."

"There, see if you can hit half way up that oak tree there."

The tree was a high one, ancient no doubt but it wasn't exactly a difficult shot. I'd had to be far better skilled in battle.

"Easy," I grinned, taking up the sideways stance and drawing to my shoulder. A few seconds thought to alter the arrow for distance against tension and then release, watching the feathers fly through the air before the tip sunk hard into the centre of the old tree. I lowered the bow, looking to the professor for his comments.

He laughed,

"Well done your majesty. You've proved yourself. For the rest of your time here she's yours, to practise with as much as you wish to."

"Thank you sir, Thank you very much."

And practise I did. In fact I spent the next week between Christmas and new year out on the fields surrounding the big house. My arms ached from little use but I was determined and it wasn't long before I could shoot leaves from the trees once more. The weather got worse and I had to be given a new coat curtesy of mrs Macready since my rations had to go on a desperately needed new skirt but the weather didn't stop me.

When I shot I was concentrating on what was going on in front of me rather than all the things I could be worrying about. I was given a tiny bit of respite from the thoughts that spun through my head all the time. They'd even got worse lately, worries about the safety of my family had snuck back into the bowl along with new worries about the health of the baby. I needed the break that I got a few hours a day when I shot.

On the first of January two other positive things happened. The first arriving in the morning post. We'd just sat down to breakfast, the professor and I, when Ivy- another of the house staff- came trotting into the dining room with a brown envelope,

"Sorry to interrupt, I've a letter for miss Pevensie." I was surprised, not expecting a letter from anyone since my Mother certainly wasn't going to write one.

"Well, I suppose you better open it then," the professor prompted and Ivy handed me the envelope before curtsying and leaving the room. She had taken up the curtsy since the professor was always referring to me as your majesty and Ivy must have began to think I really was someone important rather than a London school girl with extra baggage. I looked at the handwriting on the letter but it didn't give much away. I flipped it over and smiled. On the back was an etching of the Narnian seal, the one Peter used to use for all our letters. I quickly tore open the back, careful not to damage the seal.

The letter was over two pages of school jotted paper and it was dated the twenty ninth of December. It read:

Dear Susan,

We hope you are well and that things are much better now at Professor Kirke's home. I hope he explained that the four of us managed to work together for mum to allow this. I'm sorry to say she hasn't budged a bit on the subject but we think- and hope- that might change when she meets the baby.

I hope the baby is still healthy and that your keeping well. Lucy's taken up the knitting needles and is making her own layette for the baby. We persuaded her to keep the wool white even though she feels certain its a boy. Both Edmund and I have taken up a job with Daniel Mcfearson on his stall since in the winter his arthritis is very bad. We're putting what we can aside for you and the baby but Mum doesn't know so we have to be careful what we do with it.

Father still doesn't know what's happened, his letters come and go but Mum hasn't mentioned a thing. We think she's ashamed, if only she could know the truth? She would be proud if she knew it all.

The good news is that even though she won't see you herself she's allowing us to come and visit for a few days before the new term starts, says it'll give her a chance to sort our clothes, what of mine will go to Edmund, what of yours will go to Lu and so on. We will arrive on the 3rd of January on the 11:40 train and can stay till the seventh. We all can't wait to see you again,

Love Peter, Edmund and Lucy

Xxx

I showed the letter to the professor and he read it over, smiling he rang the small bell and Ivy bustled back in with a bright smile lighting her cheeks.

"Let Mrs Macready know that we will be having guests on the 3rd. Miss Pevensie's siblings are coming to stay for a few days." Ivy smiled, nodded and disappeared once more.

The second good piece of news came later in the day. We had been out on the lawn- I'd promised to give the professor some lessons so he could put Rìgain to good use- when Ivy again came rushing out to speak to us. The professor had just aimed and was preparing to loose his first arrow in a half-decent direction when she called his name. He looked a little fed up to say the least but then his face soon brightened at the news.

On the very day my brothers and sister left Polly was coming for a visit. Polly, the professors old friend had met me in the hospital and I hadn't even known about it, she was eager to see me and give me some of the support that only another woman could give. Things were certainly looking up in the case of the coming week.

"Ah!" I screamed startled wake by something, a thing I was totally unaware of. I was hot beneath the scattered blankets and sheets, my skin sticking to my shirt. I was home. Where was she? Only a minute ago I'd been with her, and we had. She, another thought snapped into my mind, she was with child. We had made a baby together.

I was back, in my own bed. It had all been a dream, it had to be. The way my bedclothes were scattered in disarray, the way my skin felt clammy, that was proof I'd been dreaming. Aslan would never be so cruel as to let me go to her and feel her beautiful body all over again if I was to be sent back home without her, my queen in more ways than one-though I wish she could have been in another as well.

I could still feel her roundness in my hands, remember what it was to run my hands over the place where our baby lived deep and warm inside her body. It was so wonderful, so beautiful how love could lead to a baby, a child she could carry and care for without even thinking until it was ready to come into the world. Those thoughts were dampened straight away when I realised I'd never know that baby. Our child wouldn't know it's Father, I had to imagine Susan would tell it about Narnia, about me. I remembered what she'd said, she didn't feel ready to be a mother, she didn't want the life she had been forced into. Surely she wouldn't give the child away, that had to be uncharacteristic of the Gentle Queen. Surely she couldn't, she wouldn't split up the family even more.

I must have eventually drifted back to sleep again for I was soon engulfed in another dream. In the dream I awoke to find myself in my own bed but shifted further to the edge. Susan lay next to me, her back facing me. I could see the outline of her shoulders through a thin nightdress, her spine curved deeply inwards. At first it seemed strange, I didn't understand her metamorphis. Moving closer to her I saw her cheeks were rounder too, her whole body appeared to be. Then I remembered, she was to have a baby, to be a mother. My eyes wandered, revealing the same idea all across her body. Her things were rounder and her breasts heavy to match the size of her belly. Her belly button stuck out alarmingly and could be seen clearly through the dress she wore. Her hair was plated all down her back in a thick brown rope. Her cheeks were flushed, but the rest of her skin remained flawless to observe. Her expression changed, her brows floating together and her eyes wrinkling up. Her lips squeezed together and she let out a tiny moan of pain. Her eyes fluttered open but she didn't move.

"Caspian!" Alarm was her first sound in the waking world and she groped around blindly for my hand. I placed my hand in hers and she squeezed it tightly the way you squeezed an orange to remove it's juice.

She let out a slow breath once more, the air stuttering out her mouth.

I gently rubbed her back, trying to soothe her, calm her with whatever seemed to be the problem.

"Caspian, you need to get help. The baby."

Suddenly Susan and the room were gone, my surroundings revealed something very different. I was in the underground passages of the How. The hard brown rock faces all around me made that very clear. I held a torch in one hand and frantically looked around myself. I was worried about the boy, but I didn't know who the boy was? I didn't understand why I was worried. I hurried back towards the centre of the tomb, hunting as dancing shadows taunted my fears.

I heard a high, sweet giggle and my heart relaxed, slowing its impossible pace as relief swept over me.

"Dada!" The voice called and at the mouth of another cave I met its owner.

A tiny boy stood pointing at the cave paintings on the wall. He was dressed in a white wrap with material passing between his legs and over both shoulders tied with a rope leather belt at his waist. He wore a deep green cloak across his shoulders and tiny sandals on his small feet. The boy came perhaps to my knee, he must have been very young but I didn't know how young.

"Mama," he babbled pointing again at the wall.

As I walked closer and the shadows traveled to behind the child I saw his hair was a shaggy dark chocolate and lay scattered and unruly on his head, just touching his ears. His eyes sent a shiver through me. The boy's eyes were black, black as coal. Black as mine.

The sun had barely risen when I had to know. There was no more patience left to be scraped from my brain. I needed to know.

I remembered being told by her majesty that many moons ago towards the end of the golden age there had been a desperation for an heir to the Narnian throne. Nobody could have imagined anyone but Queen Susan being the child's mother. She'd told me a chart had been constructed by the magicians of the time, the chart somehow showed those times she would be most likely to take to her husband, of course she never found a husband and so the parchment never had its use but maybe, maybe I could find it and learn the truth. I walked all the way to the library, praying that the document I needed was amongst those the Narnians had salvaged when the Cair had been destroyed. The library was full beyond belief of old books and loose papers but very few from the Golden Age or before. I went straight to the window which housed those precious items and sifted. Once,twice and once more, my heart sinking a little more with each search. It wasn't there. I knew the details were kept in a leather folder with the characteristic daffodils on the front. Sheets all based around the Queen's personal business were in that folder and that folder wasn't in the library. Feeling defeated I sat down on the floor, I had to know, I just had to. No one could tell me, nothing left or entered this world that could explain to me what I had to know. The cold floor seemed to be the inspiration I desperately needed, it jump-started my brain and made everything so clear.

Information so private would most definitely have been salvaged, and it would have been kept in a place just as private. The place left untouched by the telmarines due to the secret covering. The folder if anywhere had to be in the treasury. My feet barely felt the cold grass or the scrape that drew blood on my toe. I was lost in my need for that knowledge. I just had to have it. The treasury was still unstable, having not been restored yet and half of a step fell away beneath my foot and I had to jump to avoid falling. The four statues watched my every move as I neared them till eventually they all lord above me with cold expressions.

"Sorry," I whispered to the statue of my Queen- it felt necessary giving her expression and that I was about to invade her own private treasury. Lifting the lid of the chest I knew many things had been removed and put in safer places within the re-built castle but still it was a shock to see how little remained. Her bow and quiver were now housed in the armoury, her finest clothes kept in the room that was once hers. Only a few treasures, statues of solid gold, paintings done to the best standard and other gifts she'd received. There was a small hunting knife engraved with daffodils and a winding candle stick of bronze encrusted with bright and precious stones.

The book that matched the description I had been given lay right at the back and I had to remind myself to be careful when I picked it up. The pages inside were both thick because of their parchment style and delicate because of their age and each crackled as I turned it.

I found the spherical graph on the last page. I checked once, twice and once more but the results, the dates and seasons, were still the same. With a despairing sigh I lay the book back in its box.

It was true.

(A/N) thank you all again for reading and please comment- I really hope you enjoyed the chapter.


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